Absolutely Preposterous
by apychopathsutopia
Summary: Ever since Merlin became Arthur's manservant, everybody has been inferring things that really aren't the truth. Honestly, do they know any better? Basically, all of Camelot is shipping Merthur, and they won't leave them, (Merlin and Arthur), alone about it. Rated T; but just to be safe. Don't own.
1. Part I

_Don't own, but I fell in love with this story line, so deal with it._

 _But, alas, not magic reveal. Not in this one. Just pure, disgustingly sweet fluff. :)_

 _Also, I made some changes, (I've been doing that quite a lot lately), and altered some things based on some of the reviews I've received. (And thanks a million for them!)_

 _R &R!_

* * *

Morgana quietly opened Arthur's chamber door, not bothering to knock or announce her presence. She watched with a smirk as Arthur berated Merlin because of his latest act of stupidity and lack of skill. The prince threw a pillow at Merlin's head, and Merlin ducked, letting his eyes follow the pillow as it slid across the floor and landed at Morgana's feet.

Merlin's eyes widened when he saw the king's ward, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment.

Morgana looked between prince and manservant and asked in amused suspicion, "What exactly are you two doing?"

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck and turned to Arthur, clearly implying that he wanted the prince to explain.

"Merlin was just leaving," Arthur said glaring at his flustered manservant. "Isn't that right, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded hastily. "Of course, Sire." He glanced once more at Morgana before scurrying from the room.

When the door closed behind him, Arthur said, "I think Merlin has some mixed feelings for you."

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Well, you saw how he acted when he saw you. He got all flustered and embarrassed. It's rather endearing, actually."

Morgana smiled and looked down at her feet. "I doubt his affections are toward me."

"And how do you know that?" Arthur asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Because I believe his heart belongs to _you_ ," she explained bluntly.

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise and he appeared to be taken aback. "To - to _me_?" he spluttered incredulously.

"Yes. And I think the feelings mutual."

Arthur's cheeks flushed, both from anger and from embarrassment. "That's hardly the truth, Morgana," he said in a voice slightly higher than normal.

"Oh, come on, Arthur," Morgana said, walking closer to where he stood by his chair. "He's been your servant for a measly _month_ now, and you're already teasing him with a smile on your face."

"I wasn't smiling, Morgana!" Arthur exclaimed. "He just lost my ceremonial sword. How does one _lose_ a _sword_?"

"Maybe he did it to get a rise out of you," Morgana suggested. "I've seen him function when he's not with you, Arthur. He's surprisingly efficient, considering how clumsy he is."

"Surprisingly efficient?" Arthur asked with a scoff. "I highly doubt that."

Morgana shrugged. "I know you admire him, Arthur. Even just a little bit."

Arthur folded his arms. "I do not. He's stupid, lazy, and incompetent."

"But he's also funny; I know he makes you laugh."

"Well, yes," Arthur said slowly. "He's been known to say . . . not witty . . . nor clever, by any means . . . but slightly . . . humorous things every once in a while, that make me smile -"

"Laugh, Arthur."

"Fine, yes," Arthur said impatiently. "But that does not mean I _admire_ him."

Morgana contemplated this before shrugging again. "Alright. I believe you." She turned to leave.

Arthur could see in her body language and could hear in the tone of her voice that she didn't believe him, so he felt the need to drive the point home by calling out to her receding back,

"I _don't_ admire him, Morgana!"

Morgana grinned to herself and responded over her shoulder, "Of course," before closing the door behind her.

Arthur mumbled nonsense to himself in his annoyance.

A few seconds later, the door opened once more, revealing a very confused Merlin, who strolled right inside with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Why's she so happy?" he asked.

"Merlin, you're an idiot," Arthur said in angrily, without explanation.

Merlin furled his eyebrows but did not respond.

* * *

"Merlin," Gwen said cheekily as Arthur, Morgana, and Uther ate supper at the longer-than-was-necessary table. She waved the pitcher of wine in front of Merlin's dazed face. " _Merrrrlin_."

Merlin jerked awake from his stupor, his slightly open mouth snapping shut. He winced as he bit his lip, turning to face Gwen. "What? What did I do?"

Gwen laughed warmly. "You were staring at Arthur again."

"No, I wasn't!" Merlin said, his voice sharp and defensive.

Gwen smiled. "Whatever you say. You just seem a bit tired -"

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Merlin said, shooting Gwen a look.

"Was Arthur involved?"

Merlin blinked, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "Well, yes, but -"

"You and Arthur really must stop doing that under Uther's nose," Gwen warned, nodding to the king who looked at his food with a superior expression on his face. "It's not safe."

"B-but, Arthur wasn't involved like _that_ -" Merlin insisted.

"It's alright, Merlin, your secret's safe with me -"

" _He just needed a bath_!" Merlin exclaimed suddenly, so loudly all the heads in the room turned, startled, to look at him. Merlin was obliviously glaring at Gwen, his cheeks stained pink.

Arthur, when he couldn't catch Merlin's eye, looked imploringly at Gwen, his eyebrow raised.

Gwen smiled, and shook her head.

* * *

Gaius eyed Merlin carefully, curiosity and light suspicion in his gaze. He cleared his throat, causing Merlin to look up from the spell book he was studying.

"There's something I'd like to ask you about," Gaius said simply when he was sure he had Merlin's undivided attention.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Alright, that doesn't sound very good; but I'm listening."

"Is there, um . . ." Gaius paused in thought. "How do I put this delicately. . . ."

Merlin closed his book and set it aside. "If you have to ask yourself that, then there is no delicate way of putting it," he said sympathetically. "Just tell me."

Gaius let out a breath of air through his nose. "What exactly is your relationship with Arthur?"

Merlin blinked. "He is my boss, and I am his servant," he explained slowly, trying to find the trap in Gaius' question.

"Is that all?"

"Well," Merlin said thoughtfully, "We _are_ friends, even if he won't admit it -"

"Are you sure there's nothing more . . . intimate, shall we say, going on?"

Merlin blushed as he groaned and rubbed his temple. "You've been talking with Gwen, haven't you?"

Gaius smiled slightly. "No. Why? Has she brought this up, also?"

Merlin shook his head and returned his attention to his book, opening it up to a random page and pretending to read it.

"She's a very observant young girl," Gaius contemplated.

"Trying to read," Merlin said, irritated.

"I always thought she was smart."

"Learning about my destiny; need quiet -"

"Don't you think there's something _telling_ that I'm not the only one to wonder -"

"I think it's _telling_ that people have sick minds," Merlin said, frustrated. "Now, please, I'm trying to read my book."

Gaius smiled fondly at his ward, before finally leaving him alone.

* * *

"So, now that you're king," Gwaine began, reclining in his chair next to Arthur at the long dining room table, "All that's left is for you to chose a queen."

Arthur smiled slightly into his goblet of wine. "I already have someone in mind."

Gwaine smirked. "It's Merlin, isn't it?"

Arthur immediately flushed bright red. He cleared his throat and said, "Who gives you the _right_ to speak to me like that?"

"You," Gwaine said simply. "There's no proper punishment, so -"

"Maybe there should be," Arthur said in a low and dangerous voice.

Gwaine merely laughed. "Wouldn't make a difference. Anyway, _I_ think it _should_ be Merlin, if my opinion is of any weight. He'd make a great queen. And imagine the wide smile he'd give you if you got down on one knee."

Arthur tried not to, but the image presented itself to the front of his mind. Of course, he wouldn't be on one knee; he wouldn't ever do that for Merlin. It'd be embarrassing for the both of them, and, honestly, he didn't think it really suited them. A smile spread on his face subconsciously before he wiped it away when he realized it was there. " _No_ ," he declared, "I was talking about Gwen."

Gwaine smirked. "I haven't heard Gwen's name leave your mouth in these past few weeks, Arthur. However, you say Merlin's name on an _hourly_ basis."

"Well - well, _yes_ , he's my manservant. My unfortunately deaf and lazy manservant. If I _didn't_ say his name on an hourly basis -"

"Arthur," Gwaine said, shaking his head, "Merlin is always with you. Actually, I'm surprised he isn't sitting on your lap right now."

Again, Arthur did try not to picture it; he did. But the words _Merlin_ , _sitting_ , and _lap_ made him slightly dizzy, and his face was radiating heat. "I would have Merlin put in the _stocks_ before I allowed that to happen."

"Allowed what to happen?" Merlin asked suddenly, appearing just over Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur jumped, turning his eyes on the black-haired man behind him. "Merlin! Don't sneak up on me like that! I am your new king; I won't have any of this -"

"You'd have me put in the stocks before you allowed what to happen?" Merlin interrupted with a sly smile.

Arthur racked his brain. "Um - allowed you to, uh -" The king could have answered the question with a lie, easily, but he couldn't think straight with Merlin looking at him with that stupid smile and that stupid raised eyebrow. . . .

Gwaine watched Arthur struggle with a grin. Finally, he took pity on the new king and finished for him: "Allowed you to sit on his lap."

If Gwaine thought Arthur's tanned cheeks were red, he was introduced to a whole other shade of blush; Merlin's extra pale cheeks looked like they were on fire.

"I . . . I-I would walk _willingly_ to the stocks before I allowed that to happen," Merlin choked out through his embarrassment.

"Right, see?" Arthur said to Gwaine, gesturing to Merlin and then to himself. "It would never happen."

Gwaine held back laughter, hiding it behind a gulp of mead. " _I'm_ not saying it would happen, either. I said I'm surprised he isn't in your lap, considering how much time you two spend together."

Merlin laughed, too loud and too short. "Oh! Well, yes, I suppose I could see that -"

"You could?" Arthur asked, turning surprised eyes on his manservant.

Merlin's cheeks flushed further. "W-well, no, I suppose I _couldn't_ . . . I mean, not like _that_ . . . of course. . . ." Merlin swallowed, before turning around and walking along the edge of the table to pour more wine for a man that already had a full goblet.

Gwaine laughed heartily. "Yes; there goes Camelot's future queen."

Arthur drank more wine as he grumbled curses at Gwaine.

* * *

Merlin sat on the floor in the armory, a scowl glued to his face. He had forgotten to muck out the stables, so Arthur had forced him to shine the shoes of every knight in Camelot.

He'd been there for _hours_ , and he was just barely halfway done.

The longer it took him to finish, the angrier he felt, and the more time he spent sitting on the uncomfortable stone floor, the more time he suspected he would spend killing Arthur when he saw him again.

So, when the door to the armory opened, Merlin automatically assumed it was Arthur, and he said,

"Sire, I suggest you leave; I'm very angry and cannot be held accountable for what I say."

"Don't worry, it's not Arthur," a familiar voice said, his boots clicking on the floor as he walked closer to Merlin.

Merlin turned around and saw Lancelot, his standard half-smile on his face. "Oh, Lancelot," Merlin said, turning back to his task. "Hello."

"What's the matter?" Lancelot asked, lowering himself to the floor and sitting beside the king's manservant.

"I've been shining boots for two hours, Lancelot," Merlin answered, absentmindedly rubbing the brush against the leather.

"Well, that's not so bad," Lancelot said, optimistically. "It shouldn't be that much longer, then -"

"I'm only halfway done," Merlin deadpanned, dropping the items in his hand and rubbing his aching wrists.

Lancelot's face fell and his shoulders sagged in disappointment on Merlin's behalf. "Oh. Well, I could help you, if you want."

Merlin shook his head. "You don't have to. It's calming, actually."

The handsome knight's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Really?"

Merlin groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "No. It's very, very annoying."

Lancelot smiled softly. "Arthur's just been having a rough day."

"Oh, I know," the tired manservant said. "Have you forgotten I had to wake him up this morning? He wasn't in a very good mood then, either."

"Well, he still likes you," Lancelot said, perkily, knocking their shoulders together.

"Likes me?" Merlin said, taken aback. "I'm surprised Arthur's still _tolerating_ me." Merlin paused in thought. "Actually, no, I'm surprised _I'm_ still tolerating _him_."

Lancelot laughed. "Well, love makes people think strange things."

Merlin's cheeks exploded in a wonderful shade of bright red and he turned incredulous eyes on Lancelot. "Love?" he said, his voice in an almost-whisper. "Who said anything about love?"

"You two haven't . . . you're still. . . ." Comprehension dawned on Lancelot's face. "Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry, Gwaine said -"

Merlin laughed nervously, trying to turn his attention to the boot and brush in his hands. "You actually listen to anything Gwaine says?"

Lancelot blinked, and rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks turning pink in his embarrassment. "Well, he sounded pretty sure this time."

The two were painfully silent for a moment before Merlin dropped his task again. "But where would he get _love_ from?"

Lancelot forced a non-nonchalant laugh. "Just being Gwaine, I suppose."

Merlin eyed Lancelot warily. "I suppose. But Gwaine never struck me as a romantic."

Lancelot nodded hastily and exaggeratedly. "Oh, yes. Biggest romantic I know."

"Really?" the manservant asked suspiciously.

The knight clambered awkwardly to his feet and backed away. "Yes. And, uh, I think I have some training to do with Arthur now, so I'll just . . . leave."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "If you had training with Arthur, I would have to go, too. King's manservant, remember?" he said, raising a boot in the air.

Lancelot's cheeks grew pinker. "Yes, well, it's, uh, a private session. Going over some . . . things. You're being there isn't necessary. You understand."

Merlin eyed him. "Yes."

Lancelot smiled, before turning around and hurrying through the door.

Merlin tried not to think about the encounter as he continued shining the mountainous pile of shoes.

* * *

Arthur and the knights were training. On a summer day. At noon.

Needless to say, they were perspiring quite a lot, and Merlin was on stand-by on the sidelines, some water in a pitcher and Arthur's spare sword in his hands. He almost hated watching Arthur train in the summer because, not only did that mean extra work for him, (more clothes to wash, more armor to polish), but he was also sweating just watching them exercise.

Arthur was sparring with Gwaine, admittedly his most worthy opponent, but, as always, Arthur managed to knock the knight to the ground and point the tip of his sword at Gwaine's chest.

Gwaine grumbled as Arthur helped him up with a laugh, saying bitterly under his breath, "If you try any harder to impress Merlin, I might have to start publicly shaming you."

Arthur was relieved that his face was already red with exertion, because he could feel himself blushing. "I don't try to impress _anybody_ , let alone _Mer_ lin," he responded, folding his arms.

"Look, if you want to keep denying it, that's fine with me, but I get full gloat rights whenever you decide to admit that you're desperate for him to like you."

Arthur gaped at him. He had the nerve . . . the _audacity._ . . . " _Desperate_? I'm not _desperate_ -"

"Fine, then, pathetic," Gwaine said, folding his arms and shaking his long brunette locks out of his face.

"I'm _not_ desperate," Arthur insisted.

"Well, your not-desperation must be working, then, going off of the look Merlin's giving you right now," Gwaine said with a smirk, walking away toward the crowd of other knights.

Arthur spared a glance at Merlin, who, coincidentally, was staring right back at him, a slightly glazed look about him.

Arthur scowled and turned away.

* * *

Agravaine watched Arthur as he looked over a series of maps and documents, a cautious look on his face.

Arthur sighed. He knew his uncle was looking at him in that odd, curious way people always seemed to have when they caught him alone. "Yes, Uncle?" he asked in forced patience.

Agravaine lowered his eyes. He knew he could manipulate his nephew into a particular way of thinking, or a certain path of action, and he was sure this time was no different. "Sire, if I may be so bold, I'd like to speak with you about your manservant, Merlin."

Arthur growled quietly and aligned his spine, his shoulders rolling back in annoyance. "Yes, and what would you like to say? It seems that everybody I've ever met wants to discuss Merlin."

Agravaine fidgeted with his fingers. "I fear he may have additional agendas than just he one you know of."

Arthur blinked. He thought the direction of the conversation would be steered down a more uncomfortable and . . . romantic road. "Agenda? I know not of any agendas concerning Merlin. He doesn't appear to have the mind for a _single_ agenda, let alone multiple ones."

Agravaine sighed. "I believe he may have some . . . how should I say this?" Agravaine paused in mock-thought. Like most conversations he had with the king, he spent hours choreographing his movements, his pauses, and even his facial expressions. Agravaine had no loyalty to Arthur, but he did value great acting skills.

"You should say it quickly, Uncle; I do not enjoy careful discussions of Merlin. I've had too many of them than I'd like to remember."

Agravaine blinked. He had thought his rumor of Merlin had been original, but now he felt like a poser, stealing somebody else's idea. "And what are the nature of these discussions of Merlin?"

"It appears that a great number of people appear to think that my manservant has . . . complicated . . . feelings when it comes to me."

Agravaine smiled. Perhaps if these same sentiments came from what Arthur considered was a reliable source. . . . "Well, Sire, I apologize for repeating what you've already heard so many times before, but it doesn't seem to be a stretch -"

"Yes, it does," Arthur said bitterly.

"But, my lord, if you'd just listen, I'm sure you'll agree -"

"I'm sure I won't agree. I do value your opinion, Uncle, but nobody, not even you, will be able to convince me that Merlin loves me."

Agravaine blinked, genuinely puzzled. "I said nothing of love, Sire. I meant only . . . additional admiration than what an average servant feels towards a king."

"No!" Arthur said angrily. "Merlin does not have additional admiration for me, or whatever it is you think. He likes me, just as any friend likes a friend."

"So, he's a friend now?" Agravaine asked. "He's no longer just a servant?"

" _He's never been just a servant_!" Arthur bit. When he realized what he said, his cheeks turned a distant shade of red. "He's . . . he's always been a - a friend," he stammered.

Agravaine eyed him, confused and slightly worried. Morgana would not be happy when he relayed this information back to her. Agravaine was continually praised by those around him that he was rather . . . decent at reading into situations and the emotions of those involved, and it was quiet obvious that Arthur, well . . . Arthur was not entirely telling the truth.

The elder remained silent.

Arthur recovered and said, a bit harshly, "Are we finished discussing Merlin?"

Agravaine nodded sagely.

"Good," Arthur said, returning his flustered attention to the maps and papers spread across the table.

* * *

Merlin had the day off.

It was an occurrence that didn't happen often; in fact, it was the first day off Merlin had in the greater half of two years.

And Merlin had so many things he wanted to do.

He was going to try that vanishing spell that Gaius advised him not to; he was going to investigate that awful smell that was coming from one of Gaius' cabinets; he was going to explore the depths of the castle, (for who knows what else Uther hid there that just hadn't been found yet); he was going to pick flowers and make a bouquet, just to make his gloomy bedroom look happier.

At least, that was what he planned on doing when he drifted into sleep the night before.

Now, Merlin didn't want to leave his bed. He suddenly understood why Arthur hated mornings.

The sunshine that streamed from Merlin's open window was aimed right at his face, and, with his bed being the unbearably small size that it was, there was no way to avoid the light without falling onto the floor, so he was forced to fully wake up.

He dressed in a daze of exhaustion, almost putting his scarf on backwards and placing both feet into one pant leg.

He shivered. The morning was cooler than he approved of, the dew on the grass outside seeming to waft into the room with him. He shrugged on his jacket and stared at a wall for whoever knows how long, just basking in the fact that he didn't have to work. Instead of going straight to Arthur, he could meander about doing whoever knows what.

He shook himself awake from his stupor and skipped down the stairs to the main room of the chambers.

Gaius was wide awake and already tinkering with various vials containing different colored liquids. (The purple one, Merlin took note of, was emitting some sort of green smoke.)

"Ah, Merlin," Gaius greeted, placing the test tubes carefully into their respective holders. "Good morning."

"Isn't it?" Merlin said airily, placing his hands on his hips. "Nothing is required of me today."

"Yes," Gaius noticed, looking at Merlin over his glasses. "I see Arthur gave you the day off."

Merlin smiled and nodded.

"What do you plan on doing with your new found freedom?"

Merlin let his arms fall to his sides again. "I don't know. Nothing, probably."

Gaius blinked. "You have the day to yourself and you want to do nothing?"

"Well," Merlin explained with a sigh, "I'm always doing something. It might be nice to do nothing for a change."

Gaius eyed him before saying, "I won't make you do chores today, but I will ask you to bring this to Sir Leon. I understand he was injured during training yesterday and it will help relieve his pain."

Merlin smiled. He actually felt rather happy that he was being forced to do something. As much as he wanted to be able to sit around and stare at a wall until lunch time, he felt almost guilty about it. "I'd love to."

Merlin took the small bottle from Gaius' hands and briskly walked to the door. To anybody else, his pace may have seemed way too fast, but he was used to getting from place to place rather quickly, or face the consequences.

Arthur's consequences.

Merlin made his way from Gaius' chambers to the knight's quarters. He didn't expect to run into many people, as it really was earlier in the morning than he suspected most liked to be awake, but, as he turned a sharp corner, he almost ran into a young women, perhaps two years his junior, and her eyes were immediately drawn to his tired face. She tutted, giving him a sympathetic look, and patted him on the back, before continuing on in the direction she was headed.

Merlin looked at her, bewildered, but he ultimately decided that whoever she was, she was crazy, and he dismissed the exchange.

When he passed a knight that he recognized but didn't know the name of, and he, too, smiled softly at him and said, "You have my deepest sympathy, Merlin," Merlin looked at him, his eyebrows furled.

"Why?" he asked.

The knight merely shook his head and kept walking.

Merlin, as he was feeling rather sleep deprived, grew annoyed even after the second encounter. He felt relieved when he saw Gwaine turn the corner coming up ahead.

"Gwaine," he greeted with a smile.

Gwaine looked at him with startled eyes. "Merlin," he responded, "You're awake."

Merlin tilted his head, confused. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be?"

The knight rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. Merlin had never seen the man before him flustered, and it made him slightly uneasy.

"What's the matter?" he asked cautiously. He was truly afraid of the answer.

"Well, I just figured that . . . since Arthur, um . . . decided your . . . assistance was no longer . . . necessary, I would've thought you would start sleeping in," he said, clearing his throat.

Merlin was so relieved he could have laughed. "I wasn't fired."

Gwaine nodded, understandingly. "Of course not. Now, if you excuse me, I have . . . someplace else to be . . . that isn't here. . . ." He shook his hair out of his eyes and walked past Merlin, his red cape billowing behind him.

Merlin scrunched his eyebrows together, watching Gwaine walk away until he disappeared from sight. He thought his day off was going to go much smoother than this.

When Merlin turned to make his way to Leon, he almost ran into a young girl. She had red hair, freckles, pale skin, and was dressed like a commoner, and her eyes were kind and gentle.

"Hello, Merlin," she said brightly, giving him a small wave.

Merlin felt his heart melt at the sight. He'd always loved children. "Hello; what's your name?"

Merlin didn't question how she knew his name because the people of Camelot just . . . knew his name. He supposed it came with being the king's manservant, but, then again, his opinion and position was always held higher than any other king's manservant was in the past, so maybe they knew he was rather good friends with Arthur.

He also liked to think that he was held in the protective hands of the people of Camelot, like a younger brother, or at least some distant cousin, and that everybody knew who he was because they were all one big family.

"My name is Lanueh," she said with a smile. But, taking in his appearance, her smile slowly fell. "I'm sorry, Merlin."

Merlin's smile fell in accordance with hers. "For what?" he asked. If she were an adult, he would have been rude and angry about it, because, honestly? she was the fourth person to act extremely suspicious around him, and he was already tired to begin with.

"Well, I know how much Arthur meant to you -"

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Merlin," Lanueh said with an incredulous laugh, "It was plain enough for all of Camelot to see."

Merlin raised an eyebrow and said, "What was plain enough for Camelot to see?"

Lanueh good-naturedly tapped Merlin's upper arm, (that was all she could reach), and responded, "You know, Arthur and Merlin; the king and his manservant."

"Yes, I'm well aware of our names and status," Merlin said folding his arms. "But how exactly does that have to do with -"

Lanueh searched Merlin's face as he spoke, her smile increasing by the second. "So, the rumors are false?" she interrupted.

"What rumors?" Merlin asked, his hands lifting up slightly in frustration.

"Oh, goodness, you gave all of Camelot a real fright!" she said with a relieved laugh. "We all thought you and Arthur had a falling out, and that would not have -"

"A falling out?" Merlin asked.

"Well, yes," Lanueh said. "It's very clear that you two have strong feelings for each other."

Merlin's eyes widened and he hastened to deny the accusations, when Lanueh leaned towards him and whispered,

"Some even say love. But you know what I think?"

Merlin released the tension in the muscles of his shoulders. "What's that?"

Lanueh giggled behind her hand. "I think you're destined to be together!"

Merlin blushed at the mention of destiny, and he was surprised to find how well his and Arthur's romance fit into the Great Dragon's cryptic relaying of his destiny.

Just as Merlin was about to respond, the king in question burst into the corridor, anger on his face and in the fast pace of his movements. When he spied Merlin, he marched straight up to him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I need to speak with you," he commanded, glancing at the young girl who was watching him and Merlin in excitement. "In private."

Lanueh laughed giddily before skipping away from the two of them.

Arthur silently led Merlin to his chambers, his arms folded and his boots clicking on the stone floor. Merlin was afraid to say anything; the silence was too fragile even to breath through. He absentmindedly fidgeted with his neckerchief, placed the vial of medicine intended for Leon into the pocket of his old-and-faithful, brown jacket, and blinked more times than he was used to.

Merlin shut Arthur's chamber door behind him, turned slowly to face Arthur and asked in a quiet voice, "What's the matter, Sire?"

"Ever since you became my manservant, everybody has been telling me you love me," Arthur said, bluntly, leaning heavily on his large armchair.

Merlin blushed and he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, ever since I became your manservant, everybody has been telling me you love me," he retorted.

Arthur rubbed at his eyes. "And how exactly are we supposed to stop these rumors? They've been left to fester for _years,_ Merlin."

Merlin leaned against the door, letting his head bang back against the wood. "I've been receiving sympathy looks and gestures all morning."

"What for?" Arthur asked.

Merlin let his head rolled onto his shoulder. "They think because I have the day off that you and I had a 'falling out.'"

Arthur huffed. "Great, so even when we're not together . . . people think we're together!"

Merlin groaned just at hearing the words spoken aloud. "There's not a very easy way to get out of this, Sire."

"I know, Merlin, thank you for your brilliant insight," he said bitterly.

"I'm serious."

"And you think I'm not?"

Merlin took a deep breath, pushed himself off of the door, and began to pace. "Gaius suspected us. And he talked to me about it."

"Gwaine," Arthur said simply. "Twice."

Merlin winced. "Yeah, I don't envy you there."

"No," Arthur agreed, shaking his head.

They were silent for a moment before Merlin said suddenly, "It's ridiculous, though, isn't it?"

"What?" Arthur asked, looking over at Merlin.

"You know . . . us. As . . . whatever they think we are."

Arthur nodded and said too quickly, "Of course. Completely ridiculous."

"Yes."

"Absolutely preposterous."

"Absolutely."

They were silent again.

"But, how'd they even get there?" Merlin pressed.

"Get where?"

Merlin's cheeks turned pink. "They made a pretty big leap between friendship and love."

Arthur nodded. "Indeed."

"But . . . it's not right, right?"

Arthur scowled. "Of course it's not right."

"No, Sire, I mean . . . we can't look like we're . . . admiring each other all the time. To everybody, right?"

Arthur blinked. "We can't. Because if we did, then we would be."

Merlin's eyebrows screwed up in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Well, Merlin, for once I don't, either."

They were silent again.

"We're just friends," Arthur said suddenly, as if he were clarifying for the both of them. "Just friends."

Merlin smiled. "So, I've been elevated from 'just my manservant' status?"

Arthur laughed. "That's never been your status. You've always been my friend."

Merlin felt his heart leap inside of him, stretching his chest uncomfortably and making his stomach contract with excitement. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "And you've always been my friend."

Arthur smiled at him, walking over to the door where Merlin stood. He placed a friendly hand on his manservant's shoulder.

Merlin quivered under his king's grasp, feeling the warmth and strength in just the fingers of the great knight. The black-haired man smiled at him, trying to gain control of his facial expressions and the trembling nervousness that he felt.

Arthur looked deep into Merlin's eyes, temporarily entranced. "Good," he finally said in a low voice, his hand tightening on Merlin's bony joint. He blinked and averted his attention to his manservant's shoulder. "You're extremely thin."

Merlin's dreamy face fell. "Oh, thank you."

Arthur shook his head hastily. "No, no, no, I didn't mean it like that," he corrected. "You just . . . you need to eat an entire feast on your own, that's all."

Merlin laughed, his head tipping back slightly.

Arthur's eyes were immediately drawn to his neck. The skin was just as pale as the rest of Merlin's body, (that Arthur had seen, the king mentally corrected himself with an inner-blush), it was smooth-looking, and warm, and inviting, and Arthur just . . . Arthur just wanted to. . . .

"Merlin," he said in a voice higher-pitched than normal.

Merlin focused once more on Arthur's eyes, which were currently lustful and reluctant. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Um . . ." Arthur said, his voice slightly shaking with desire. He decided that whatever he wanted to say couldn't be said with words, so he glanced helplessly at Merlin's lips, before his eyes flicked back to his manservant's bright (and wide) blue eyes.

Merlin seemed to understand. At least, Arthur thought he understood, judging by the way his cheeks were rapidly turning red.

"Arthur -" Merlin began, his lips, slightly parting as he avoided the king's eyes.

And seeing Merlin's mouth move instantly incapacitated Arthur, and he pushed forward, wholly against his will, gripping Merlin's other shoulder firmly.

Merlin, not expecting to be suddenly assaulted by a pair of lips, almost stumbled backwards due to the impact itself; but he was held in place by Arthur's arms, which clung to him, (Merlin would say desperately, but not aloud if he wanted to keep his head).

Merlin didn't know what to do. He was afraid of reacting, but he was equally apprehensive about not reacting. He couldn't deny that he quite enjoyed feeling Arthur's soft lips slide against his own, possessive, protective, trying to be dominant. Merlin just couldn't allow Arthur to think he was dominant.

(Merlin already knew Arthur was dominant, but there was no fun in just submitting.)

Finally, Merlin's eyes fluttered shut and he reciprocated the kiss. He opened his mouth against Arthur's, allowing the king's tongue to enter and explore. Their tongues fought playfully, but, as Merlin expected, Arthur proved the stronger, and wrapped his arms around Merlin's waist.

Merlin, almost immediately, placed one hand on the side of Arthur's face and another on his chest, stepping further into Arthur's shelter.

Arthur bit down lightly on Merlin's bottom lip, emitting a long moan from the back of Merlin's throat. Merlin, in turn, wrapped his fingers in Arthur's thick blonde hair, gripping tightly and pulling slightly. Arthur sucked in a breath and let out a sigh through his nose.

The two took turns trying to make sounds of pleasure escape the other until the heat was unbearable between them and they needed to step back in order to retain some of their sanity.

They broke a part and Arthur, still holding Merlin to him tightly, panted into his manservant's mouth, "I should give you the day off more often."


	2. Part II

_Alright, so like many of the plots that I have dreamed up, I have fallen in love with this, so I've decided to compose a sequel of sorts. This was a little trickier to write, but I submit that it was totally worth it, because I just . . . I just love this Merthur so much!_

 _And, I admit, I was inspired a bit by Lord Voldemort when writing this, so please forgive my subconscious addition to Harry Potter, too. It wasn't deliberate, but I swear it isn't . . ._ horribly _noticeable._

 _Also, I really like the idea of Arthur sitting at a desk being all professional, and Merlin worry-warting and pacing and just generally distracting Arthur without entirely meaning to. I don't know why, (I've already used it once before this), but I can sense myself using this image in the future, so please forgive me!_

 _So, without further ado: here's Part II!_

 _R &R!_

* * *

Arthur was reading over some papers in his chambers, careful to keep the parchment a safe distance away from the candle flame, when he felt a yawn itch at his throat. He tried to swallow the yawn, but it forced its way from his mouth, stretching his lips open and exposing his teeth. As soon as it passed, he looked up at Merlin, who was pacing in irritation, and had been for quite some time. Arthur had tried his best to ignore it.

Arthur sighed, rubbing his eyes. "What's the matter, Merlin?"

Merlin jumped at the sound of Arthur's voice. He glanced briefly at him before continuing to pace. "Nothing."

Arthur scoffed, organizing the papers halfheartedly. "Yeah, you've fooled me."

Merlin rolled his shoulders and kept his dizzingly fast pace.

The king rose to his feet with a stretch, gazing at Merlin fondly. "Alright, Merlin. Tell me what's wrong."

Merlin halted immediately and turned to face his king. He blinked at him a couple times; holding his gaze. Finally, he began, "Are you sure -"

Arthur smiled and interrupted, saying, "Everything's going to be fine, Merlin. Don't worry."

"Worry?" Merlin asked, shrugging and beginning to pace again. "Who's worrying? Not me, that's for sure."

Arthur chuckled, walking over to Merlin and pacing alongside him. "Then I'm not, either."

Merlin nodded, dutifully.

There was a beat of silence before the black-haired man spoke.

"But, are you absolutely sure -"

"I'm absolutely sure, Merlin," Arthur answered, wrapping an arm around Merlin's shoulders as they continued to pace. "Like I said, they won't mind at all."

"Well, maybe they won't mind, but -"

"Merlin, what exactly are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Merlin said quickly, looking up at Arthur. "I'm just . . . wary, that's all."

"You're . . . wary?"

Merlin nodded, looking away.

"What are you wary of?"

Merlin sighed, leaning into Arthur's body and resting his head on Arthur's cheek as they moved together. "I don't know. It's hard to explain."

Arthur smiled, squeezing Merlin's shoulder. "We've got all night."

The corners of Merlin's mouth upturned slightly, before they fell again as he sighed. "Oh, Arthur," he said under his breath. "Are you sure there won't be any backlash? At all? I mean, I know people have been . . . expecting this, I suppose. But that doesn't mean they'll all support it. And, well, with you being king, I'd think . . . I mean, I know . . . do the people actually want this?"

Arthur chuckled warmly, shaking Merlin's body. "Merlin, since the day you first became my manservant, people wanted this. From the second I laid my eyes on you, and you me, everybody around us noticed that we wanted this. We just didn't know what this was at the time. Whatever else comes with whatever it is you and I have . . . they'll accept it wholeheartedly."

Merlin smiled wide, turning his head so he could look into Arthur's eyes. "You were such a prat. Still are."

"And you were such an idiot." Arthur kissed the top of Merlin's head. "Still are."

Merlin laughed, lifting his head from Arthur's body as he aligned his spine. Arthur's arm slipped from his shoulder, and Merlin smiled at his king.

They gazed at each other for a moment before Merlin said, "We'll be fine."

Arthur nodded. "We will."

"And I'll be fine."

"You will."

"And . . . you'll be fine."

The king smiled. "I will."

Merlin grinned. "Good."

Arthur reached an arm up and ruffled Merlin's hair. "Come on, Queen Merlin, we have a long day ahead of us. You, in particular, need to get some sleep."

Merlin groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, Arthur, please don't call me that."

"Why not?"

Merlin glared at Arthur halfheartedly. "There are many reasons why I don't want you to call me that, but the main one being that I am not a woman."

Arthur mockingly contemplated and folded his arms. "That's debatable."

Merlin scowled. "Alright, so there goes my happiness for the night."

The king smiled letting his arms fall back to his side. He reached a hand up to brush Merlin's cheek, but paused half-way through the action and pulled his hand away. For all Merlin taught Arthur to love with all his heart, it would take lifetimes to convince him that it was alright to show his love in the form of sweet gestures and light touches, instead of lingering looks and lasting smiles. "Don't worry, Merlin," he said, to cover up his falter, "I'm well aware that you are not a woman. I've been acquainted with your -"

"Arthur, please," Merlin said, his face growing so red that he had the nagging need to press the palm of his hand to his cheek to try to cool it down.

Arthur laughed at Merlin's embarrassment, and the sound was enough to make Merlin grin despite himself. He cleared his throat, forcing the smile from his face. He wanted to be irritated at Arthur; he found it endlessly amusing to watch the lengths Arthur would go to to either cheer Merlin up or annoy him further.

He sighed. "So. Tomorrow."

Arthur's smile fell as well. He felt worried that Merlin was so worried; Merlin always seemed so confident in the face of Arthur's conquests, but never once had he seen Merlin fear something so trivial before.

Well, he supposed it wasn't trivial for his manservant, per se, but that is a different matter. Arthur didn't like that, no matter where their conversation went, Merlin always seemed to bring it right back to this uncomfortable topic of discussion. "Tomorrow," he agreed.

"Just, one more time, Arthur," Merlin said, rubbing his eyes. "The people, what will they -"

"Merlin," Arthur interrupted, with a shake of his head, and a deep breath. By his tone of voice, Merlin could tell that he was going to open up to him; whenever Arthur said something meaningful and shockingly beautiful, it came from nowhere and, usually, at the most inconvenient times. Merlin liked it; it kept him on guard, and made Arthur appear more endearing even than Merlin imagined. "My love for the people does not surpass my love for you. Where you are concerned, the people don't matter," Arthur said, wrapping an arm around Merlin's waist tightly.

Merlin made a soft noise of surprise at being suddenly pressed flush against his king, but he quickly melted into the touch. He didn't think he'd ever get over the feeling of Arthur's skin against his, of Arthur's strong arms taking hold of him. Merlin didn't think that he would ever get passed the fact that he was allowed to see the king like this, that he was allowed to touch the king in ways no other person was. It was exhilarating, almost like breaking a rule set long ago by old men in paintings long covered in dust; it was enticing, like tasting a pie on the windowsill that was forbidden to eat; it was exciting, like the build-up of adrenaline in the bloodstream when a love presses his lips against yours. It was a sensation that Merlin would never get sick of. It would always be as amazing as it was the first time, and he was sure that every pleasure button he had would still work years later, decades later, when they were old and dancing the dance of love under the same sheets in the same bed.

But this was now. Here and now. They were young, and slightly reckless, and nobody knew for sure what they were. There was speculation, (apparently since the beginning of their friendship), but nobody ever knew. That's why they always asked: because they had theories, and ideas, and hopes, but there was no way for them to know for sure.

There never would be.

All these things were going through Merlin's mind when Arthur swept him from his feet and carried him to their bed; however, his train of thought was slowly becoming compromised as Arthur's silky hands began to caress his pale skin, as his neckerchief was untied by expertly trained fingers and his shirt removed by carefully maneuvered movements.

Merlin was already too far gone to speak properly.

Arthur, with his hands placed gently on the sides of Merlin's head, leaned down into his lover's face, gazing at his lustful expression with a soft smile. He dipped his head and laid a sweet kiss on Merlin's lips.

When Arthur pulled back, Merlin's head followed him, trying to find something more.

Arthur chuckled, falling off of Merlin and flopping down on the bed beside him. He nuzzled his nose into Merlin's cheek and said lowly, "Get some sleep, clotpole."

* * *

The sun shone directly into Merlin's eyes and he jerked awake. He had been having an odd dream where he was sitting on a throne in the throne room, wearing a crown, but the crown had Uther's face on it, and Arthur, who was sitting beside him, was actually the Great Dragon, and Gaius was a toad and Gwaine had a bald head and Gwen was really fat.

It took him a second to realize that the dream didn't happen.

He let out a breath, and looked around. He still hadn't gotten used to seeing Arthur's chambers when he awoke. It was something he would become accustomed to, he was sure, but it was a work in progress.

Merlin turned to the sleeping figure beside him. Arthur's chest rose and fell in an even pattern, his hair was messy, and his eyelids were closed delicately, almost like he were a painting. Perfect like a painting. Merlin silently cursed his Pendragon good looks, because it was the only thing that was preventing him from scaring the poor king awake.

It was only a couple of minutes before Arthur slowly began to stir, his eyes cracking open slightly and his eyebrows furling in an amusing state of confusion. "Merlin?" he said sleepily, picking his head up from the pillow. "Is't morning?" he slurred.

Merlin laughed, propping himself up on one elbow. "Yes, sire, it's morning."

Arthur nodded, yawning, and sitting up. He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes, before turning to Merlin, apparently awake enough to speak coherently. "Are you ready?"

Merlin smiled softly. "Absolutely."

Arthur looked at him for a moment before pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "Then let's go."

* * *

Merlin was uncomfortable. There were many pairs of eyes looking at him; well, it seemed as if there were many eyes looking at him. In all actuality, it was the same amount of people who were usually in the throne room when the king had announcements to make and when criminals attended trials. The only difference was that Merlin was standing next to Arthur at the front of the room, rather than next to Gaius on the side of the room, where he could leisurely watch the activities at a safe distance.

Finally, when all the knights were in place, the guards were stationed, and servants located in strategic areas about the room, Arthur cleared his throat, demanding the attention to be drawn to him.

"I have two very important announcements to make," he stated in a clear voice. He paused, almost dramatically, before turning his head to look at Merlin. "Merlin and I. . . ." he began confidently, before abruptly stopping, unsure of how to finish his statement.

Merlin looked back at Arthur, seeing in his eyes that Arthur had not planned what he was going to say at all. He was too busy making sure Merlin felt comfortable and reassured that everything was going to be fine.

Merlin's heart melted just a little bit, before he realized that the knights were glancing at each other, suspicious and skeptical.

"We're. . . ." Merlin continued, furrowing his eyebrows together in the attempt to think of something to say.

"How to say this. . . ."

"It's rather complicated. . . ."

Both Arthur and Merlin fell into silence, staring at each other, longing for the other to think of something clever.

Gaius took a step forward, his arms burrowed into the other arm's sleeves, and a slight smile on his face, (hardly noticeable, if you weren't looking for it). "Perhaps I may be of some assistance, Sire."

"Yes . . . yes!" Arthur said suddenly, breaking his gaze at Merlin to look over at the court physician. "Assist away!"

"King Arthur and Merlin have been on friendly terms for quite some time. It has been obvious to many that the two boys have grown . . . increasingly fond of each other over the years."

Merlin could feel his face blushing already.

"So, as was expected and understood, the two have submitted to their feelings for one another -"

"Alright," Merlin said suddenly, rubbing his cheekbone absentmindedly. "Alright, it's been said, now it really mustn't be needlessly repeated."

All eyes were immediately drawn to Merlin's embarrassment. Most found it endearing and charming, but there were a price few, (like Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Lancelot), that found it endlessly amusing. (As Merlin was practically their little brother, they felt a certain obligation to relentlessly torture him.)

"And I thought Arthur was the coy one!" Gwaine called out behind a cupped hand.

Merlin's face bloomed into many wondrous shades of red, as Arthur glared daggers at Gwaine and said, "Yes, Gwaine, thank you for your commentary."

Gwaine grinned, shrugged, and responded, "Anytime."

"Are you getting married?" Lancelot asked suddenly.

Arthur and Merlin stopped and glanced at each other, before turning to the most noble of knights.

"Married?" Arthur asked.

Lancelot smiled. "Of course. If you two are to finally admit their affections, isn't the next step marriage?"

Merlin frowned, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "We can't get married."

Arthur turned to Merlin, his eyes widening suddenly at his unexpected vocation of annoyance. He said in a whisper so only Merlin could hear, "Why not?"

"Because you need an heir," Merlin answered, leaning his head closer to Arthur's. "My inability to be a woman kind of prohibits that. . . ."

"Two things," Arthur said. "First of all, you've been using a lot of big words today, and I'd just like to say that I'm a good influence on you. Second of all, your inability to be a woman does not prohibit me from having a child."

"Uh, yes, it sort of does -"

Arthur winked at Merlin, before turning to the crowd, who were watching Merlin and Arthur with an odd mixture of amusement, awe, and pride. "I'm sure you all are wondering what the second announcement is."

There was some vague murmured assent, which Arthur took as a cue to continue.

"This, I don't think, is something I, being a mortal, can tell you," Arthur said mysteriously, turning to Merlin. "However Merlin, I'm sure, can fill you in on the details."

Merlin suddenly turned to Arthur as the knights and the guards looked around at each other in confusion at the word, 'mortal.' There was pure and absolute panic in his eyes, and he reached for Arthur's shoulders, the words, "You know, on second thought, Arthur, I don't really think this is necessary," leaving his mouth so quickly the king had a difficult time piecing the sounds together.

Arthur took hold of Merlin with his strong arms, turning him so he was facing the audience. "You can do it; I'm right here."

"No, no, no, Arthur, please, I can't -"

Arthur gave Merlin a quick but meaningful kiss on the lips, a part of him forgetting that there were other people in the room with them as he was so focused on calming Merlin down.

Merlin froze, his eyes flickering shut, trying to savor the sensation before it left him. And it did, much to his chagrin, and he let his eyes remain closed for a moment, before lifting his lids to reveal a smiling Arthur looking at him fondly. (He could also hear some cheering in the background, but his ears were ringing with his adoration for Arthur, so he found it difficult to focus on anything other than his lover.)

Arthur let his hand slide down Merlin's arm as he took the warlock's hand in his, squeezing slightly in reassurance. "Yes, you can."

Merlin gave a slightly horrified look, before taking a deep breath and turning his attention to the crowd. He cleared his throat as his eyes skimmed the room. "H-hello. Uh, I-I'm Merlin."

"Yes, we know," Percival said with a chuckle, elbowing Gwaine, who, in turn, laughed.

"Right, well, uh. . . ." Merlin swallowed and looked back at Arthur, who merely nodded with an encouraging smile. "I-I. . . ." He sighed deeply, gathering his thoughts. He hadn't planned his speech at all, and it was taking quite a while before something worth saying actually came to him.

"Magic has been outlawed in Camelot for a long time. Those who possess magic have been persecuted, sought after, killed, burned, hanged, and otherwise tormented. Women and children, as well as men. And needlessly; the innocent as well as the guilty have been targeted.

"But that shouldn't happen anymore. Magic is not evil. It is not some disease that cannot be cured; magic can be beautiful. It can be a gift; it can be something worth cherishing, not something that can be twisted and bent into something that must be destroyed. That is not what magic is. Magic is . . . magic is tremendously natural. Like water, and fire, and earth, and air . . . it is the most raw and natural thing you can find, and those who wield it are not evil, either."

Merlin took a breath. "Think of it this way. I've been a manservant for five years. I'm always asked to make the fire, and fire is hot. Fire can kill you. But, are you going to run and hide because, if used the wrong way, fire is dangerous? No, you most certainly won't, because fire also keeps you warm, and heats your bathwater, and cooks your chicken, and it can be so useful and harmless that you would never suspect it could kill something.

"This is what magic is. If used the wrong way, just like fire, it can be harmful. Morgana: she used it the wrong way; she took the gifts she was given to obtain her throne and satisfy her evil plan.

"But magic itself . . . it is not evil, or bad, or wrong. And if you have it, it doesn't make you a bad person. Only if you abuse it, just like if you were to abuse flame . . . then you are a bad person.

"Me?" Merlin said, looking down at his feet. "I am not a bad person. Well," he added with a short, bitter chuckle. "I'm sure that'd be up to debate; a lot has happened since I arrived in Camelot. And . . . I wield magic. I do. But I am not a bad person. I am not evil. And I am not wrong.

"I have protected Arthur in ways that I will never tell anybody. Not him. Not Gaius. I probably won't ever say them out loud. I have . . . killed for him, lied for him, and went on secret missions that I'd rather not remember for him. And all the while, I used my gifts. I used them for good. And that is what makes me not a bad person."

He let out a breath and squeezed Arthur's hand, still warm and strangely compassionate in his. He hadn't ever realized that those words had lived inside of himself until right then. He didn't know he harbored such passion until the need to speak arose. But now he felt exhausted.

The room was silent for a moment, the people visibly processing what he said.

Arthur looked over at Merlin, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. He was as taken aback by Merlin's speech as the rest of the room. Merlin was afraid of looking Arthur in the eye; he didn't know how he'd react. Sure, he'd known that he was a warlock for quite some time, but he had never fully understood the extents of his frustration until then.

"Hey," Arthur said quietly, just so Merlin could hear him.

Merlin's eyes flicked back and forth, still refusing to look at the king.

"Merlin," Arthur said, a bit louder.

Still, Merlin remained silent.

"Merlin, that was . . . wow."

Gwaine cleared his throat very loudly, causing Merlin to jump and look up towards the noise. "Y-you're a . . . a sorcerer?"

"I am a warlock," Merlin said, pulling himself to his fullest height in pride.

"What's the difference?" he asked, pulling a face.

"A sorcerer practices magic, while a warlock is born with it," Merlin stated.

Gwaine nodded slowly. "I've got a mind open just as much as the next guy, but . . . a warlock? For how long?"

"Well, Gwaine, since a warlock is born with magic, I'm pretty sure I've been one since I was born -"

"What do you mean, 'you have an open mind, but?'" Arthur asked protectively, pulling Merlin closer.

"What he means, Sire," Leon interjected, taking a step forwards, "Is that we've been taught to despise magic and everything concerning it since most of us were born. It's going to take some time for the people of Camelot to fully come to terms with -"

"You all fully came to terms with Merlin when he became my manservant," Arthur said, his grip on Merlin's waist tightening. "Why is it so different now?"

"Because, Sire, now he's a warlock," Leon said. "Or . . . now we _know_ he's a warlock."

"But you didn't despise him before," Arthur shot back. "And now you say that, because he has magic, you must immediately despise him for it? And this kingdom that I've built with the help from this warlock here . . . has that taught you nothing?"

"Arthur, you misunderstand -"

"No, _you_ misunderstand," Arthur bit. "Merlin is . . . something of a. . . ." The king glanced at the black-haired man that he held in his arms. "He's something of a . . . he is what he is. If my father forced you to accept his marriage to a troll, I willing to bet that you can accept my marriage to Merlin!"

Merlin's eyes widened as he finally looked Arthur in the face. "Marriage?"

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur answered. "We _are_ getting married!"

Merlin leaned closer to Arthur and said, just so Arthur could hear, "We can't get married; like I said before, you need an heir, and the people already don't accept me; not even Gwaine wants me around anymore. I told you this would happen, Arthur, I shouldn't have said anything -"

Arthur interrupted, clearly and loudly, addressing the entire court, "I care for Merlin. Merlin is a warlock; I care for him even if he's a warlock, I care for him because he's a warlock. I love him." The king's grip on Merlin tightened even more. "I suggest you do the same."

The room grew contemplatively silent under Arthur's harsh gaze. He had not expected such ignorant responses from his knights. He thought he had trained them better than that; he thought that Merlin had made a larger impression on the knights; he thought they cared for him.

As always, Gwaine was the first to speak.

"Of course."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Gwaine started to smirk. "You're not the only one who's allowed to care for Merlin, Arthur. He's our brother. Of course we love him."

Merlin looked between Arthur and Gwaine, before letting his confused gaze land on the knight. "Even if I'm a warlock?"

Gwaine smiled, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Even if you're a warlock."

Merlin turned quickly back to Arthur, a wide smile on his face, as if childishly asking Arthur if he had heard exactly what he did.

"So," Lancelot interrupted, "When is the wedding? You never answered me."

" _We can't get married_ ," he said exasperatedly. "Arthur need's an heir."

"But . . . but you're a warlock, aren't you?" Percival asked.

"Yeah, you can just . . . make a baby, right?" Gwaine concluded.

Merlin blinked. Twice. He started to laugh. "I can't just make babies!"

"Why not?" Arthur asked.

"Because . . . because that's not what magic is! Making babies is a magic all on it's own; it has nothing to do with my being a warlock. A baby made from magic would not be normal. It'd be . . . dangerous. And I'm not entirely sure it's possible."

All eyes collectively turned to Gaius.

Gaius thought for a moment, before saying. "Merlin is right. There are ways for magic to create a child, but I'm afraid the results would be dire. The child would be a risk to us all."

"How do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Well," Gaius explained slowly, trying to figure out how best to word it. "A child born of magic and not of love will not have the ability to love. The greatest gift we receive from our parents is unconditional love. Even if they show no love their child, the act of producing children is the most passionate most people will ever be in their lifetime. That love is powerful; it is passed down through generations, and I can confidently say that it will never stop. But if Merlin were to create children from magic and magic alone, they would not understand this love. It would not be in their vines. Magic would."

"That's not necessarily said as a bad thing," Merlin hastily corrected. "I am but magic itself; I have magic in each of my veins, and it pumps from my very heart. But I was also born of love. Imagine me . . . without the ability to love."

"You'd be but a shell of a person," Gaius said thoughtfully.

"And if I were creating this child to be Arthur's heir," Merlin mused, "and he lacked the ability to love, (and with love comes compassion and empathy), he would be no better a ruler than Morgana."

A hush of solemn passed through the crowd.

Merlin slowly moved his eyes towards Arthur, who appeared crestfallen, but corrected his disappointed expression the moment he noticed Merlin's gaze.

"That's . . . we'll figure it out, Merlin," the king said sympathetically, in a voice just for Merlin, as he stroked the black-haired man's hand with his thumb.

Merlin looked down at their entwined hands before looking back up at Arthur. "I know. One of the most important things Gaius has taught me about my magic is that it should not be the first resort for everything. There are ways to solve problems without it."

Arthur sighed sadly. "I should have been the one to tell you that," he said in a low, border-lined ashamed voice.

Merlin smiled softly. "It is honestly not possible for you to blame yourself for that. I didn't tell you for years, Arthur. It's my fault."

Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but Merlin shook his head and spoke over him.

"Yes it is. I trusted you with my life, but not my darkest secret. I saw you in tears, in mourning, and in heartbreak. I saw the very raw bits of you that nobody else got to see, and yet I couldn't show you who I really was. There is nobody to blame but myself."

Arthur sighed. He knew Merlin well enough to know that he wasn't going to win the argument, so he didn't even try. "We'll be fine."

Merlin smiled wide, his eyes lighting up. "We will be."

Arthur grinned back at him, and the two mutually leaned forward and pressed their lips together in the gentlest of kisses, earning them even louder cheers than before.

 _Hey, it's me, apsychopathsutopia! I'm currently working on a Part III, as well as another chapter of **Love Spells and Sensual Remedies**. If, you know, there's anybody out there who still cares!_


	3. Part III

_Ahhhhh, Part III. Loving this story, and I hope you are, too! Lancelot and Elyan are still alive. I know, chronologically, this doesn't make any sense, but I don't ever have the heart to kill of characters permanently, even if it IS canon. I'm sorry; I know it ruins the accuracy, but I love Lancelot so much, and Elyan is a nice . . . nice filler character? He was never really given a personality, so I always just give him the lines that aren't really all that important. :) No shame!_

 _This is purely fluff and angst. It got more sappy and romantic than I initially anticipated it being, but, what are you going to do? And then the whole Gaius part . . . it wasn't supposed to be super sad, either! But, anyway, an actual plot line is forming, guys! Arthur's kind of a jerk in this, and I didn't really mean it to be that way, but . . . well, you'll see what I mean._

 _Still don't own. Of course. Is this part actually still necessary?_

 _R &R!_

* * *

Gwaine strolled down the long corridors of the castle, enjoying the sound his boots made when he walked along the stone, and relishing in the sight of his long, red, cape billowing behind him. He knew he looked impressive, and he knew people feared him, as well as the other knights. They were fearsome warriors that had experienced death, battle, crushing rivals, and the most evil sorceress to walk the face of the earth. He assumed it was only natural for the citizens of Camelot to be wary in his presence.

However, in contrast to this belief, Gwaine was also cued into the fact that it was all poppycock. Gwaine was the town drunk, despite the fact that he was also a knight. The fact that he was tardy to all meetings, (and always showed up partially intoxicated), did not help him obtain the necessary requirements for a Knight of Camelot: to be regal, sophisticated, and mature, while, coincidentally, Gwaine was none of those things.

Elyan was, in most respects, was much like Gwaine, minus the heavy drinking. He had a history of gambling and an inability to settle down anywhere for an extended period of time, much to his sister, Gwen's, chagrin. Gwaine liked Elyan enough, but perhaps just a bit more than the others, simply for the fact that he could relate to the poor man's restlessness. But he couldn't pick favorites. How could he? Elyan, as well as the other knights, and even the foolish boy Merlin, were brothers in arms.

Gwaine turned a corner and nodded courteously to a beautiful serving girl that he almost accidentally knocked to the floor. She had blushed under his flirtatious gaze, and ducked her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Gwaine sighed, content. He had been having a pretty great day.

* * *

Gwaine neared his destination, a smile growing on his lips as he heard the casual whistling from the other side of the door. He slowly opened it, and peeked his head inside. "So, Merlin," he called out, causing the black-haired man to jump at the sudden presence of a voice. "Still in the armory, I see."

Merlin glanced up with a smile. When the warlock had woken up that morning, the sun was shining brightly into his face and Arthur was pressing their bodies together as tightly as possible. Merlin assumed it was an act of possessiveness; or at least he hoped so, because he woke up with the realization that he could hardly breath.

Merlin's arms ached from the motions of sharpening Arthur's sword, and his legs were stiff from sitting in the same position for such a long time, but he said, "Of course. Every other day, you know."

Merlin and Arthur had been married for approximately a year, and yet Merlin still polished Arthur's armor, and prepared him for hunts, and gave him baths, (something that the two of them both enjoyed _very_ much), and even brought him his meals. Arthur insisted several times that a new servant be appointed for Merlin's old duties, (now that he was technically a _king_ and all), but Merlin refused every time he offered. So, logically, Arthur gave up his pursuits and fondly watched Merlin run to and fro in his famous scurry that Arthur had always found so endearing.

"Yes, but," the knight said with a chuckle, opening the door fully and walking confidently inside, "you don't have to do that."

Merlin shrugged, returning his attention to the sword in his hand. "I know. But I like to."

"Why?" Gwaine asked, pulling a face.

Merlin shrugged again. "I'm used to it."

Gwaine eyed him suspiciously, as if waiting for a punch line, but when it never came he rolled his eyes. "Arthur's looking for you. He's sent me to fetch you and to bring you directly to him personally." Gwaine's face took on a mock-expression of determination, but Merlin missed the sarcasm. His heart was currently doing something that he couldn't describe with words.

The black-haired man looked up, his eyes smiling as his happiness picked at the corner of his lips. "Really?"

"Yes, something about a . . . actually, I don't know. He was babbling quite a bit, and, to be perfectly honest, ever since he got married, he's been a great deal more boring."

"I can think of many things Arthur is," Merlin mused, struggling against his protesting muscles to stand. "Boring is not one of them."

"That's because you're _married_ ," Gwaine grumbled, swinging his shoulders like a pouting five-year-old. "You're not _allowed_ to find him boring."

Merlin laughed warmly, tossing the sharpening block to the side carelessly. "So, what does the great, big prat want? If, of course, you can actually remember and mead hasn't altered your path of thought."

"Oh, Merlin, that's very funny," Gwaine laughed sarcastically. He rolled his eyes. "I don't know what the king wants. It's a secret, apparently," Gwaine said with a shrug, shaking his glorious mane of brown hair out of his eyes. "Mostly, he just went on a rant about how I wasn't supposed to know anything about it. For a king, and such a noble warrior, he really is quite _stupid._ "

Merlin sent Gwaine a warning glare, and folded his arms, trying to appear as dangerous as he could. " _I'm_ the only one who can say that."

If Gwaine was afraid, he didn't show it. He held his arms up in a mock-surrender, looking the young King up and down. "Merlin, I know you're a warlock and all, but you still don't scare me -"

"I really could scare you, if I wanted to, but my arms are tired, and I haven't eaten breakfast yet," Merlin said with a sophomoric groan, letting his shoulders droop. "I hope the great, big prat has food with him."

"You have two legs," Gwaine said, clapping Merlin's arm. "You can make your way to the kitchens if you wanted to."

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but Gwaine interrupted. "Don't tell me. You've gotten used to being king. And being . . . _waited_ on."

"No," Merlin said shaking his head. "But I am lazy."

Gwaine chuckled and shook his head. "As much as I want to be chatting about your _kingliness,_ Arthur really is waiting for you. Oh, and," Gwaine gestured to the door, "Arthur's sword can wait."

* * *

The guards to the throne room opened the door for Merlin, bowing him inside. Merlin awkwardly nodded his thanks, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He'd never get used to being treated like a king, and, (perhaps even worse), he didn't know how to respond. He never received thanks from Arthur or Uther if he held the door open for them, but, then again, Merlin knew what it was to be a servant.

All in all, the feeling that Merlin wasn't allowed to do simple things for himself made him slightly uncomfortable.

Arthur was speaking with Lancelot, (one of his most trusted knights), when Merlin saw him. The black-haired man smiled, as he always did when he spotted his husband. Even to that day, Merlin felt his stomach soar as he saw Arthur's golden hair, his brilliant blue eyes, and his impressive stature.

Arthur finally noticed Merlin, standing awkwardly in the room, with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking back on his heels. He smiled and greeted, "Merlin! Where've you been off to?"

When Merlin heard Arthur's voice, his eyes snapped to the King's, and he grinned and responded, "In the armory, sharpening your sword. Every other day, you know."

"Merlin," Arthur said, dismissing the knight with a pat on the shoulder, "You don't have to keep acting like a manservant."

"That's what I told him," Gwaine interrupted suddenly, wrapping an arm around Merlin's shoulders. "But he insists. Honestly, I don't understand it. Willingly doing work." Gwaine shuddered.

Arthur stared at the knight. He felt a burning in his chest that he realized was jealousy, and, after a moment of mulling over the idea of burning Gwaine at the stake for so intimately touching his husband, he cleared his throat. "Gwaine. I would like a moment alone with my husband."

Merlin's inside writhed at the prospect of being called Arthur's husband, and he blushed, glancing at Gwaine.

The knight smirked, looking between the two men. "Of course, Sire." He bowed to Arthur and turned to Merlin, nodding his head. "And Sire." Gwaine left the room, his boots clicking on the stone floor.

When the room was finally empty and the guards had closed the doors, leaving Arthur and Merlin alone, Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and crossed the room to meet his husband. Merlin smiled and pulled Arthur to him in an embrace.

"How are you doing, you great, big prat?" Merlin said with a laugh into Arthur's neck.

Arthur exhaled through his nose and melted into Merlin's touch. He hated to admit it, but . . . actually, no, he did _not_ hate to admit it because there was nothing more truthful that he could say: Merlin's touch brought him peace when nothing else could. Merlin's skin was silk, his touch was as gentle as any summer breeze, and his kiss was like fire, but it never did burn. Perhaps it was the magic that lived in Merlin's heart that made every kiss, (whether heated or brief), go straight to his stomach and make his heart flutter wildly. It was like lighting a torch, and sometimes he had to close his eyes because of the brightness of it. When Merlin kissed him, he felt something course through his veins, and, if it were magic, he embraced it entirely. He had since learned that magic was not Morgana. It was not Mordred, (who had been sent into exile from Camelot: Merlin's orders), and it was not Valiant. Magic was Merlin, and Merlin was magic. (In more ways than one.) Everything Uther had taught Arthur was wrong, and it had taken a lot of late-night love-making and midnight magic shows, (courtesy of Merlin), to prove that, and to comfort him when the reality was finally accepted.

Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin and held on as tightly as he could. He had attempted to laugh, for Merlin's sake, but it fell flat and unimpressive. He squeezed Merlin's thin frame once more before releasing him and taking a step back. "Merlin, there's . . . there's something I must tell you."

Merlin quirked his eyebrows, his smile slowly slipping from his face. "Alright, that doesn't sound very good."

"It's . . ." Arthur sighed, pacing back and forth and running a hand along his bottom lip in thought. "It's complicated."

Merlin reached out and grasped Arthur's wrist, stopping him from walking back and forth. When Arthur and Merlin locked eyes, the blonde-haired king met fire and ice at the same time. He met protection and comfort; he met passion and loyalty; he met truth and kindness. He met magic. He met the very essence of Merlin. In some ways, it frightened him; being able to see so much of one person through their eyes was such an intimate form of communication, and, at times, it was rather overwhelming. It was one of the reasons Arthur fell in love with the goofy black-haired man. He wore his heart on his sleeve, even if he kept his secrets in vaults within the chambers of his heart. "Tell me what's the matter." The warlock's voice was firm, authoritative, and commanding. Arthur was used to Merlin's voice telling him what to do; he had always listened to his manservant's advice and opinions, and sincerely took them into account whenever he made important decisions. Now that they were married, he allowed Merlin's wisdom to guide him through Camelot's times of darkness. But this . . . this was different.

Arthur sighed, and looked down at where Merlin's hand met his, and he re-positioned them so their fingers were entwined. Merlin's hands were cold in his. They always were, but the silky texture comforted him even if it was similar to holding an ice cube. But it was holding Merlin, and that was all Arthur desired when the moon covered the cobbled streets with a faintly blue glow and under the blankets was the only appropriate place to be. All in all, Arthur counted down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the heart beats until he could carry Merlin to his bed and caress his beautiful skin properly.

However, now was not the time to dwell on that.

Arthur sighed, lifting Merlin's hands to his lips and kissing them absentmindedly. "I am worried," he stated simply, caressing the back of Merlin's hand with the pad of his thumb.

If not for the creases around his eyes and the tenseness in shoulders, Merlin would have laughed at Arthur's bluntness and expectation at being comforted. "What are you worried about?"

"Merlin, I. . . ." He paused and sighed deeply, expelling all breath from his lungs. "The meeting this morning was on an important subject. One that every king must face. And you'd know what I'm talking about if you actually _attended_ the meetings that are required of you," Arthur teased flatly, endeavoring to lighten the mood.

Merlin didn't fall for it. His lips did not so much as lift in amusement. "What was the subject?"

Arthur could hardly lift his eyes to meet Merlin's, and, when he did, he immediately wished he hadn't. Merlin's eyes were just as intense as he had left them when he looked away. For a fleeting moment, he thought, _Gods, tell me what I did to deserve him_. He opened his mouth, and closed it again. At long last, he said hesitantly, "You are going to be angry."

Merlin's expression did not falter, though he did raise his eyebrows as a gesture to encourage Arthur to continue. "I don't care. Tell me."

Arthur spent a few more seconds rubbing small circles on Merlin's skin, before saying, in a near whisper, "Leon has informed me that I am in need of an heir."

The intensity in Merlin's eyes faded away, though Arthur did not see this process, as he was still adamantly avoiding the warlock's gaze. Something inside of Merlin deflated, and his shoulders drooped considerably. "I see."

"And you can help me," Arthur murmured, ducking his head even further.

Merlin stared at him. For a moment, he did not know how to respond. He recalled informing Arthur, (several times, if his memory served him correctly), that it was dangerous. Lethal, even. After a painfully long silence, Merlin said in an equally hushed voice, "I am not capable of providing that for you."

"But you are," Arthur said in a desperately eager voice, looking up suddenly, his eyes wide and pleading.

"No," Merlin said sternly, pulling his hands from Arthur's and taking a step away. "Arthur, you are putting too much faith into my magic. It has it's limits."

"Please, Merlin -"

Merlin shook his head. "I am not going to do that for you. You know I would do anything for you, Arthur, _anything_. But _not_ that."

"Merlin, you have to," Arthur said, reaching out to him in a worrying state of reliance.

"I won't."

"You must."

Merlin's lips curved upward bitterly. "I _must._ Is that so? You are telling me I have no say?"

Arthur nodded curtly. "It is your duty as King of Camelot."

"There are many other options for you, Arthur," Merlin spat. "Natural conception is possible, but I am not going to aid the process."

"I don't want to bed anyone other than you -"

"I understand your predicament," Merlin said, forcing his voice to calm down and sound sympathetic. "But I've already told you I am alright with it. As long as it does not become a regular occurrence."

"But, Merlin, I don't want that -"

"Well, I'm sorry, Arthur, but I do not want to use my magic to create a child for you. Gaius and I have already told you. We've read every book we could find on the subject, and each we've found came to the same conclusion. A child that is unnaturally born of magic is a child void of love. That means that the heir you want so badly would not love _you,_ or _me_ , or _anything_. Would you really want that?"

"I want an heir."

"That's fine, Arthur. You can make an heir. You have the choice of any woman in the kingdom."

"I know. But I want you and only you. The child comes second."

Merlin, in essence, growled. His eyes flashed red, and the extinguished candles that lined the room suddenly burst to life, causing Arthur to jump in surprise. "I hoped to never hear those words from you, Sire."

Arthur winced at what Merlin had been reduced to calling him. He hadn't meant for the sentiment to come out so prattish and rude; he had been going for romantic. He knew he could never take that back, and Merlin's temper had already been soiled enough to not be salvaged for the remainder of that day, but Arthur had called Merlin to him with a mission.

"I require an heir. You will _make_ me an heir. The rest we can deal with later."

Merlin's eyes widened in surprise at being addressed with such anger and indifference. Even when he was a manservant, it was a rare occurrence that Arthur truly yelled at him, and even then he could handle being reprimanded. But he had not yet been spoken to so coldly. Merlin turned his back on his husband, and called over his shoulder, "I've given you my answer. Do with it what you will." The doors to the throne room exploded open by themselves, (with a little guidance by Merlin's magic, of course), and he stalked out of sight.

Arthur sighed deeply, practically collapsing into his throne and rubbing his eyes, tiredly. He should have anticipated that reaction; Merlin always had a bit of fiery temper, even if he tried to hide it. But what did Merlin expect? He was King. He had responsibilities, even if he didn't want them. Did Merlin really think that Arthur was eager and excited to go to meeting after meeting, and issue proclamations that would likely contradict the beliefs of many citizens of Camelot, and condemn men to death, and train knights through wind, rain, snow, and hail? Did he think that Arthur enjoyed leading his knights into battle, with the possibility of their imminent deaths hanging over his head like the light on an angler fish? In all honesty, the relief he would feel if the weight of leading an entire kingdom were to be lifted from his shoulders could possibly be worth giving up his position as king. He could take Merlin and they could live in the streets of Camelot as common villagers. Or, he could take Merlin and they could live in a secluded hovel in the middle of the woods nearby Camelot, and live off of Merlin's magic and Arthur's determination for success. Or, he could take Merlin out of Camelot entirely and they could live in Ealdor, taking up positions as farmers, eating their livelihood and living next to Hunith. Arthur had always liked Hunith. She made, not just a _suitable_ mother, but an _ideal_ mother; the happiness she exhibited on the day of their wedding was heartwarming to see. She even cried.

Arthur could take Merlin anywhere, everywhere. He could take two horses, his sword, and a few necessary supplies and they could ride off and never stop, just the two of them. Arthur had told Merlin only once that he loved him, and it had made the warlock smile so wide that Arthur couldn't stop grinning for the rest of the night. After that, the sentiment did not seem necessary; Arthur knew that Merlin knew that Arthur loved him.

But, all in all, he could not leave. He would feel too guilty for leaving; he had a duty to his people to lead them. He could not desert them simply for relief from his job. He just wished that Merlin's mindset was identical to his. It would make things easier.

Arthur felt a surge of anger well up inside of him. Merlin _did_ have responsibilities. He married Arthur; Arthur was king. Though that technically made Merlin king as well, Arthur's say was ultimately final, and his say, at the current moment, was that Merlin was _going to_ make him an heir.

And Arthur knew it was possible. Merlin had the magic.

* * *

Merlin had walked from the throne room to Gaius' chambers without so much as greeting anybody along the way, though he passed both Leon _and_ Lancelot. Merlin supposed his face looked in pain, or at least angry, for the two knights looked at him worriedly, and Lancelot placed a gentle hand on Merlin's shoulder and said,

"Merlin, are you alright?"

Merlin nodded furiously, though he felt on the verge of an emotional breakdown, and only desired the comfort of Gaius' so-so cooking and the bed he hadn't slept in in over a year. "Yes, I'm alright."

"Where're you going? It's getting late," Leon said, standing behind Lancelot with the same worry in his eyes. "Your room is in the opposite direction -"

"I am going to see Gaius."

"Gaius? Why?" Lancelot asked. "Are you not feeling well?"

"I'm feeling fine," Merlin repeated, impatiently glancing over Lancelot's shoulder in the direction of the physicians chambers. "I haven't seen him in a while."

"Merlin, if something is bothering you, you know you can tell us, right?" Lancelot said kindly.

"We _are_ here to help," Leon added.

"No, no, nothing is bothering me," Merlin said, his voice suddenly irritated. "I just . . ." The tone of Merlin's voice dropped considerably, as all the anger and frustration left him at once. He felt a weight in his chest, and wanted nothing more than to hide away from sunlight and all the knights and townsfolk who cared for him. He hunched his shoulders in the attempt to appear smaller and less significant. That way, Lancelot and Leon would think him not important enough to worry about. That way, he could slip away from prying eyes and reiterations of concern and offerings of support. His voice was weak and quiet as he said, "I would like to see Gaius."

Lancelot looked over his shoulder to share a meaningful look with Leon, who simply nodded. "Okay," the former said, returning his attention to Merlin. "Go see Gaius. But if you need us, you know where we are."

Merlin let out a breath, and nodded hastily. "Of course."

Lancelot and Leon continued walking, speaking in hushed voices, but Merlin just ignored them, and hurried up the winding staircase to Gaius' chambers.

Merlin reached the door, and stared at it nostalgically. The door was nice-looking, just as he remembered it being on his first day in Camelot. It was a special door; reliable; sturdy. Merlin raised a fist and rapped on it, ducking his head down as he anticipated the look of surprise on Gaius' face. It had been a while since had come to visit Gaius; he had seen him at meetings in the throne room, and they had always had pleasant conversations and Gaius would always say how proud he was of Merlin, but Merlin found he was just too busy to visit him in his chambers. He was paying for it now that sincerely needed the old physician's comfort.

Merlin listened as Gaius' heavy footsteps grew louder, before the door suddenly swung open. The old man looked exactly as he did when Merlin first met him, but his eyes may have had a few more layers of bags now than they did then. A smile rapidly formed on Gaius' face at Merlin's presence, and he exclaimed, "Merlin! What are you doing here?"

Merlin tried to smile, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "May I eat dinner with you?"

Gaius' smile fell, and he nodded slowly. His eyes swept Merlin from top to bottom. He still wore the same pair of ratty old shoes that he came strolling into Camelot with, and nobody could convince Merlin to quit his neckerchief. He looked exactly the same, except his eyes did not contain the same Merlin-quality that they used to. Gaius was reminded briefly of Merlin's appearance before his magic was revealed to Arthur and the whole of Camelot, and when the death of Arthur seemed within sight. He sighed quietly. "Yes, of course. And you don't need to knock, my boy. Any time. You are welcome."

"Thank you, Gaius." Merlin smiled, but only with his lips, as he walked past Gaius into the room. "I am sorry that I haven't been to visit you -"

Gaius held an hand up to silence the warlock. "You need not apologize, Merlin. I understand. Just know that my door is always open."

Merlin nodded, and sat down on the familiarly hard and uncomfortable bench in front of the table. It appeared that Gaius had just sat down to eat, the same soup and bread that they almost always used to eat for dinner. Gaius closed the door, and crossed the room to pull another bowl from his cupboard. "There's plenty for the both of us," Gaius said, placing the bowl in front of Merlin and spooning a few helpings into it. He sat down on the opposite side of the table with a soft grunt, and watched Merlin intently as he twirled his spoon in the liquid.

After a moment, Gaius began to eat as well. He knew Merlin had quite a lot on his mind, and he also knew that the silly young man wouldn't have come to see him if he didn't feel the need to share his troubles with another head. Merlin nearly always confided in Gaius' head.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, Merlin dropped the spoon and sat up straight. "Arthur told me he loves me."

Gaius lowered his spoon, allowing it to rest on the edge of his bowl as he met Merlin's eyes with a smile. "I should think so. You've been married for a year -"

Merlin shook his head, slouching again. He looked at his bowl. "That's not what I mean. I sort of spoke in the middle of my thoughts."

"You do have a habit of doing that," Gaius said fondly, resting his hands on the table. "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

Merlin sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Today Arthur brought up the subject of his heir."

Gaius nodded in realization. "I see. And what did he have to say on the subject of his heir?"

Merlin groaned, slouching even further. "He wants me to make him one."

"With your magic?" Gaius asked. "It would kill us all. Did you tell him that?"

"Of course I told him that," Merlin said. "Many times. Today is not the first time he's tried to convince me."

"So what makes this occurrence any different?" Gaius asked.

"He didn't ask me this time," Merlin said quietly. "He _told_ me."

"He told you? What do you mean?"

"He told me that I was going to make him an heir," Merlin said, in a slightly dazed and emotionless tone. "I told him I didn't want to. I told him it was dangerous. And he told me it was my duty to Camelot, and that I didn't have a choice."

"He treated you like a manservant," Gaius mused.

"Yes," Merlin said eagerly, leaning towards Gaius and resting his arms on the table. He still wasn't exactly content, (in fact, he was still quite angry, but he knew the dangers of letting out that anger on an old man), but he was glad that Gaius understood his standpoint. "Only the thing is -"

"You're married," Gaius interrupted. "You are no longer a manservant."

"Exactly," Merlin said, leaning backwards and almost falling off the bench. He was used to chairs with backs on them; he had forgotten how easy it had been to topple over in Gaius' chambers.

Gaius pretended not to have noticed Merlin's falter, but he noted it in his brain, reassuring himself that Merlin was just as clumsy as ever. If Merlin was still clumsy, then Merlin was still Merlin. The two words were one in the same. "What do you plan to do?"

"I plan to not conjure an evil and emotionless infant just to provide closure for Arthur and the kingdom," Merlin stated confidently. "Arthur doesn't need me to make a child, and I'm not quite sure why he thinks he does."

"You know the reason, Merlin, you told me earlier," Gaius said with a smile.

Merlin blushed and rubbed a hand down his face. Of course Gaius had to make connections about the things that Merlin said that Merlin himself couldn't even make. And of course that was the reason, because, in retrospect, Arthur's motivations were a lot more romantic than Merlin's, although Merlin's motivations were a lot more innocent and void of disaster. "It's because Arthur loves me, isn't it?"

"Yes. He does not want to leave you alone for another."

"But I already told him -"

"It doesn't matter what you've told him," Gaius interrupted softly. "Arthur is stubborn, you know that."

Merlin let his head fall onto his palm and he raised his eyebrows in agreement.

"Once he has his mind made, he will do everything in his power to make sure the things he envisions come true. Even you must admit, Merlin, the trait is admirable in a leader."

"Well, yes," Merlin stuttered, looking at a floorboard on Gaius' floor that was quite intriguing. "It is admirable in a leader, but perhaps not so much in a husband. He's not getting his way, Gaius. I told him. I would do anything for him; I've already done pretty much everything one can do for another. But I will not do that."

"I must say, I agree with you much more than I do Arthur," Gaius said with a nod.

Merlin nodded, and the room grew comfortably silent. The warlock looked around the room; everything was exactly the same as it was when he left. All the books were put in a relatively orderly fashion, although Merlin and Gaius were the only ones who understood how that orderly fashion was organized. There were test tubes filled with suspiciously-colored liquids, (one of which was steaming slightly), and open next to them were Gaius' personal notebooks, filled with hasty scrawls and neatly and accurately drawn charts and tables. Merlin looked at the staircase that lined the wall next to the window, where he had saved the clumsy old man from falling to his death the very first time they met. He had always had a bit of a hero complex, ever since he was a child. The older he got, however, the less he wanted recognition, and the more dangers he wanted to face in order to save as many people as possible. Merlin looked all around him, hungrily taking in as much as he could. He had almost died in that room, on several occasions. Many people had almost died there, a few actually did die there, and Merlin had built his life there, in that very room. He had eaten many dinners at that very bench with Gaius; five years worth of meals, and together they laughed and contemplated and relived and Merlin felt tears spring at the corners of his eyes at the raw emotion of it all, but he blinked them away.

"Gaius," he said in a quiet voice, turning to look at the old man. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Gaius had watched as Merlin reminisced, and he felt all of the memories flood back to him as well. He had lived much longer than Merlin; he had more memories than the young boy. But Merlin had lived more than Gaius; he had experienced more than Gaius. He was born for greater things than Gaius, even if he were only meant to be a manservant. He had proved the Great Dragon wrong, and Gaius was so damn proud of the black-haired man. His son. He had come to Camelot a stranger to all; just a stupid boy who was brave enough to pick a fight with an equally stupid prince. He had saved that stupid prince's life his first week. He had been awarded a filthy job cleaning up after the stupid prince. He had saved the stupid prince's life a time or two, easing him into his new role as King. He had followed well-trained knights, the greatest warriors in the world, into battle against bandits, neighboring kingdoms, Morgause, and Morgana. He had kept his true identity a secret for five years, practicing magic under the nose of the very people who banned it.

Merlin had lived a good life. A great life. He more than deserved Arthur, the Once and Future King.

"Of course," Gaius said softly, patting Merlin's arm with a tear ghosting his lashes. "I'll prepare your room."


	4. Part IV

_Alright, here we go. It's problem solving time._

 _Or is it?_

 _I'd like to apologize for the immense break that happened in between these chapters. Sorry!_

 _Whatever, ignore me. Don't own. Wish I did._

* * *

Merlin woke up happy.

He shouldn't have, and he didn't understand why he did, but when the sun splashed on his face at an unfortunate time of the morning, the first thing he did was smile. His back ached because his bed was mainly a potato sack stuffed with straw, and his blanket didn't cover his feet because Gaius was much shorter than him, and Arthur was nowhere in sight. And yet he still smiled.

Perhaps it was the familiarity. He was in the room that he had woken up in for the better half of five years, and it still had the same smell. Slightly dusty, mildly chemical-ly (due To Gaius' works downstairs), and strangely like bread yeast. It was a peculiar smell, but Merlin had always loved it. In fact, he missed the smell quite a lot, and a part of him wanted to return to his home with Gaius. There were so many memories that he had made there; he wasn't sure he was entirely in the right to leave for Arthur as abruptly as he did.

He missed Arthur. A lot.

Even if he _was_ gone for just one night. But Merlin hadn't been too far away from Arthur in the past year; it felt strange.

Especially because his bed was uncomfortable and he had nobody to lay with.

Perhaps he was happy because he had cried too hard the night before and was relieved that his tear ducts were finally empty. His sobs lasted until he finally fell asleep. He cried so hard that his stomach began to swim in circles, but he wasn't sure exactly what was making him that upset. Sure, Arthur spoke sternly to him, but was it really worth him getting that worked up over? He was used to Arthur shouting at him, and throwing things at him, and calling him stupid and actually _meaning_ it. This time it was much more painful. It felt more personal, like he was being attacked.

A few minutes after Merlin had woken up, Gaius slowly opened Merlin's bedroom door and peeked his head inside. It had been awhile since anyone had slept in that room; he didn't have the heart to replace Merlin's space.

"Merlin?"

Merlin popped his head up and smiled wide. "Morning, Gaius."

Gaius quirked his eyebrows and opened the door fully. "You seem awfully . . . cheerful."

Merlin sat up in bed and stretched. "The sun's shining. I think I just heard a bird chirping, although it might've been that old man that sometimes sleeps outside your chambers." Merlin smiled. "I sort of missed him, actually. Anyway, the point is, I'm happy."

Gaius looked at him skeptically. "I don't want to make you upset, because you clearly are in a good humor this morning, but that was not the case last night," Gaius said, walking over to Merlin and sitting on the edge of his bed.

Merlin shook his head and ran a hand down his face. "I was being stupid last night. Well," Merlin added, "I'm always sort of stupid, but last night it was particularly bad. I figure I've been relying too much on Arthur. It was nice to spend a night away from him, on my own, in my old bed. Does that make sense?"

"Of course it does," Gaius said, nodding. "You spent a lot of time with him; it's only natural that you should want some space."

"He's going to be really mad when he sees me again," Merlin said.

"He doesn't have the right," Gaius observed.

"No," Merlin said absentmindedly. "He doesn't."

"Would you like some breakfast?" Gaius asked, putting a comforting hand on Merlin's knee. "I've got some fresh fruit in the cupboard."

Merlin smiled and let out a breath. "Thanks, Gaius, but I really should go see Arthur."

Gaius paused a moment to look at Merlin, his eyebrows evening out. "Are you sure?"

"The problem's only going to get worse the longer I stay away," Merlin said, tossing the too-small blanket off of his legs. "Anyways, I'm sure the big prat missed me."

* * *

"MERLIN, YOU HAD ME _**WORRIED SICK** ,_" Arthur screamed, throwing his goblet of water across the room with a loud clatter.

The action would have scared Merlin if he weren't used to it already. While he was a manservant, it was common place for Arthur to throw things either at him, or in his presence. It didn't really faze him all that much. "First of all, throwing any object that you can reach isn't going to solve anything. Second of all, if you were worried that much," Merlin said calmly, folding his arms, "why didn't you come find me? The kingdom's only so big. Besides, you know where Gaius' chambers are; I used to live there for five years. I thought that'd be easy for even _you_ to piece together."

"Are you interrupting my being worried about you to _insult_ me?" Arthur asked forcefully. His face was dangerously red with anger and there was a vein in his neck that was a bit more pronounced than usual.

"Yes."

" _Merlin_!"

"Well, what do you want from me, Arthur? You shouted at me yesterday and are deliberately trying to destroy the kingdom by having me create you a child of magic."

"But, Merlin, you have to understand -"

"Arthur, I do understand. We've had this conversation before, and I have no interest in having it again. I know that I'm right, and, believe me, Arthur, I know where you're coming from. As king, you have certain responsibilities. But I am also king now, and I have the responsibility to _not let you kill us all._ "

"That's not fair, Merlin," Arthur said, his hands balling into fists. "I need an heir."

Merlin shook his head. "I'm not having this conversation again, Arthur. I just won't. Neither of us are gaining anything from it; you think you're right, I _know_ I'm right, and we're both just saying the same thing over and over again."

Arthur closed his eyes, let out a breath to calm himself, and released the tension from his shoulders. The night had been rough. To be honest, he did miss Merlin, and he was worried about him, but he already knew where his husband had went off to. You had to have been an idiot to not know. And, yes, Arthur was worried, but Merlin could hold his own. And it's not like Merlin'd need any help whilst with _Gaius_ in _Gaius'_ chambers.

"You're right, Merlin. This conversation's been bled dry. Time to change the subject. For now."

Merlin nodded. "For now."

"How was Gaius' last night?" Arthur asked awkwardly, grabbing his elbow with one arm and swinging one of his legs back and forth. He'd taken some mannerisms from Merlin. That wasn't unusual, however; Merlin was acting more like Arthur in the sense that he was firmer in his opinions and vocally fought for what he thought. Before, he had firm opinions, but he had been forced to keep them silent. The longer he spent with Arthur, the more he felt he could express his opinions to everyone who was willing to hear.

And, as king, that was a _lot_ of people.

"Gaius' was fine. I forgot how small my blanket was. My feet were nearly frozen all night." Merlin attempted a laugh, but it came out more like a grunt than anything.

"Good. How's Gaius doing?"

"Good. Gaius is doing good."

"Good."

Merlin found a pattern in which to click his tongue, and looked all around the room except for Arthur. He wasn't angry anymore. Upon remembering the horrendous amount of crying he had done the night before, Merlin found himself feeling rather foolish. Once he started sobbing, he couldn't stop. He cried until he couldn't remember why he was crying, and then he just cried some more until he passed out. The atmosphere between Arthur and Merlin wasn't threatening anymore, but painfully awkward, and the silence wasn't helping any. Neither of them knew what to do.

Arthur cleared his throat, so, naturally Merlin looked over at him and he was surprised to see the blonde-haired man smiling wide. It was slightly disconcerting, actually.

"What're you smiling about?" Merlin asked, his folded arms falling at his sides.

Arthur laughed and walked towards Merlin, placing a hand on his shoulder. "No reason. It's good to see you."

"I was only gone a night -"

"A night too long."

Merlin cringed. "Ugh, you're being romantic again."

"I thought you liked it when I'm romantic," Arthur protested lightly, shuffling a few more steps towards Merlin until they were nearly flushed against each other.

Merlin smiled and wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck. "I do."

Arthur grinned, placing his hands gently on Merlin's waist and pressing their foreheads together. "Then I shall romanticize you all day."

"Is that even a word? -"

"My bed was very cold without you, you know."

"Arthur -"

The blonde-haired man swayed his body back and forth, his grip tightening on Merlin so that the warlock was forced into an awkward sort of waltz. "You talk in your sleep, and without you, my room was silent."

"Arthur, please stop -"

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut in a mockery of Merlin's pleas. "There was nobody there for me to _hold_ -"

Merlin bit his lip to stop the laughter. "Arthur, I swear to gods -"

"As I awoke to find you gone, my nearly endless dreams of you and I . . . drifted away."

Merlin stopped resisting and just looked at Arthur.

Arthur didn't noticed, and continued to pull Merlin's body this way and that. "Sweet dreams of magic and mayhem. Dreams of a love that ruled kingdoms, and changed worlds, and defeated evil. Of a love that will never be seen again in hundreds of years."

Merlin bit his lip even harder as Arthur's eyes slid open. "Of a love whom I'll never let go."

The two men stared at each other.

It's hard to tell which king moved first, but in an alarmingly short amount of time, neither man was on his feet, and there was a severe lack of clothing.

* * *

The door of Gaius' chambers shut behind Gwaine and Lancelot, and they both folded their arms.

Gwaine suddenly exclaimed, "I'm never letting anyone talk me into seeing Gaius again; it was just a stupid cut, it could've happened to anyone."

Lancelot shook his head. "You needed stitches."

"I could've dealt with it myself. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is, I'm not a delivery boy," Gwaine mumbled. "Gaius has no authority over me; I refuse to continue delivering messages, _to_ anybody, _for_ anybody. This isn't what I agreed to when Merlin and Arthur coaxed me into knighthood. I agreed to battle, and to adventure, and to all the wine and mead I could ever hope to have!"

"Gwaine, stop it," Lancelot said with a chuckle, patting him on the shoulder. "I was there at the knighting ceremony, too. You were excited. And besides, you _like_ Merlin and Arthur."

Gwaine huffed and rolled his eyes. "That has nothing to do with it."

"I _am_ surprised, though," Lancelot observed as both knights began walking toward the kings' chambers. "I always thought they were perfect together. I didn't ever except them to fight."

"Yes, well, you always see the good in everything. And just because you and the mistress are always happy, doesn't mean that everybody always is, too."

"Thank you Gwaine, I'll be sure to pass the message on to Gwen."

"Your welcome. Send her my regards."

"I mean it. Merlin and Arthur were meant to be together -"

"You and your romance -"

"- And it's strange to hear that they're fighting."

Gwaine sighed. "Alright, I know, I understand, but a fight is justifiable under these circumstances."

"Are fights _ever_ justifiable?"

"Well, Lance, trouble getting pregnant is a perfectly reasonable excuse to fight, everybody knows that. Happened to me last week."

Lancelot rolled his eyes, but didn't deem the comment worthy of a response.

* * *

"We're late for a meeting."

Merlin laughed, watching his index finger as it moved in circles on Arthur's chest. "You mean _you're_ late for a meeting."

"It's about time you start learning some discipline, Merlin."

"Oh, I _have_ discipline," Merlin said, pulling the blanket up to their stomachs. He adjusted his body so that his head was placed on Arthur's shoulder and he sighed contentedly. "I just don't bother."

"What are you going to do instead?" Arthur asked, blowing Merlin's raven hair out of Merlin's eyes.

"Polish your armor, probably."

"Hey!" Arthur said with a laugh. "Every other day, you said!"

Merlin's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, right. Well, I'm sure I could find something."

"Or you could just go to the meeting -"

Merlin sighed melodramatically. "You'd think it was that simple, wouldn't you?"

Without warning the doors to Arthur and Merlin's chambers suddenly clanged open, revealing two knights, fully clothed and on a mission. Gwaine's smirk increased ten-fold as he noticed the scene he had stumbled in on. Lancelot looked like he wanted to run away, but the presence of Gwaine kept him in place. The two kings stared in disbelief and horror, awaiting the inevitable mockery, and probable-public-shaming.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Gwaine said cheekily, folding his arms and shaking his hair out of his face.

Merlin immediately flushed a deep crimson. "Go away!" he barked, tugging on the blanket self-consciously.

Arthur leaned his back up against the headboard and folded his arms, glaring at Gwaine's smiling face. "My God, you're almost as bad as Merlin," he said through gritted teeth. "Would it kill anybody in this entire kingdom to knock?"

"Probably not."

"Gwaine, let's just come back later," Lancelot said. "They look . . . busy."

"Come now, Lancelot, we were sent here with a message, remember?" Gwaine answered. "Can't leave until we give it."

"Alright, what is it?" Arthur hissed.

"Gaius needs you. Something about pregnancy? I can't remember the details." Gwaine unfolded his arms and sighed contentedly. "Oh, Merlin. Arthur. I am _never_ going to let you to forget about this."

Arthur pointed at the door. "Message received. Leave."

"Don't worry, _Your Highness_ ," Gwaine sarcastically bowed, "Regarding the meeting that we are all supposed to be at right now, I'll be sure to alert those who've actually shown up that you won't be present. I'll tell them you have some . . . business to attend to. With Gaius. About Merlin's . . . pregnancy."

"Gwaine, you will tell them that Merlin and I have to see Gaius, and it's urgent. Nothing more. If you want to stay in Camelot, it is required of you to keep this between those who already know."

"Just to be clear, Sire, do you mean those who already know _right now_ , or those who will know when I tell them in, let's say, five minutes?"

Merlin sat up straight and glared at cheeky knight. "Gwaine, leave. Please."

Gwaine grinned, but held his hands up in surrender. "You don't need to tell me twice." He turned on his heels, and followed a very disgruntled and embarrassed Lancelot, who pulled the door shut with an apologetic smile.

Once the door was closed, Merlin let his head flop down on the pillow. "That was horrible. Terrible. All the knights are going to know about it, and then all the commoners, and we'll both be the laughing stock of the whole kingdom."

"Well, _that's_ a bit dramatic; we're the kings. As much as the people of Camelot love us, (more specifically, _you_ ), I think they'd be too wary to openly mock us on the basis of one of Gwaine's claims."

"Yes, but this time Gwaine's claim is true -"

"They don't need to know that, Merlin," Arthur said, ruffling Merlin's hair.

The black-haired man swatted at Arthur's hand, and sat up and stretched. "So, pregnancy. Sounds like an interesting topic to talk to Gaius about."

Arthur sighed and rubbed the side of his head. "This shouldn't be awkward at all."

* * *

When Merlin and Arthur walked into Gaius' chambers, they were immediately assaulted by Gaius' voice.

"Good, you're here. I found something that could help with the little dilemma you two have found yourselves in."

"Great, what is it?" Arthur asked, closing the door behind him.

Merlin stayed silent as he clambered onto the backless bench. Gaius clunked an extremely heavy-looking book on the table in front of Merlin, who immediately, as if it were wired within him to, hunched over it and began to read. Arthur sat beside him.

"You could turn into a woman!" Gaius exclaimed, guiding Merlin's gaze to a certain place on the page with his finger. It had been a while since Merlin had seen Gaius that excited, but that didn't really matter to him at the moment, because both Merlin and Arthur were distracted by Gaius' proposition.

Merlin stared blankly at the page. "Um, Gaius -"

"Gaius, could that work?" Arthur asked.

"I'm sure of it," Gaius said with a nod.

"How long would it last?" Merlin asked warily.

"Well, Merlin, I'm pretty sure it would have to last nine months," Arthur said in a monotone voice. "You know, with the baby, and everything -"

" _ **Childbirth?**_ " Merlin exclaimed, horrified, scrambling off of the bench and taking multiple steps back. "I have to go through _childbirth_?! That's painful! Really, really, really painful! I could die! The baby could die! We _both_ could die! What if it's a girl? Then we don't have an heir! Then I have to spend another nine months being a woman, and what if it's _still_ a girl then? What if -"

"Merlin, for God's sake, calm down," Arthur said, rising to his feet and holding out a comforting hand to his husband. "Everything will be just fine. You won't die. The child won't die. And, if it's a girl, then _she_ can be the heir. She can be the Queen of Camelot. It doesn't have to be a boy."

"But . . . painful. . . ."

"Of course it will be painful," Gaius said, in a more-stern-than-usual voice. "It's childbirth. But there are certain remedies that I may concoct for you that'll help with the pain."

"Can't Merlin just magic the pain away?" Arthur asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"Oh, Arthur, that's brilliant; I can just magic away the pain," Merlin said sarcastically. "Oh, yes, I wish I had thought of that, because I'm sure that's _possible_ -"

"Merlin -"

"Well, have either of you actually thought of what childbirth would do to _me_?" Merlin asked, pointing at himself and scowling. "I'm not exactly . . . wide enough for that."

"Well, Merlin, it's a good thing you won't be you anymore," Arthur said. "You'll be nice and . . . nice and _wide?_ "

"Is that the right word?" Merlin asked, the anger in his voice replaced by curiosity.

Arthur shrugged. "I've never had physical relations with a woman before; I have no idea."

"Well, it's not called wide for _me_ , so . . . what, big? Does that sound right?"

"Eh, I don't know, that doesn't sound dramatic enough; I feel like the word'd have to be something longer than that -"

"Exfoliated?"

"That's _definitely_ not right -"

"Pay attention!" Gaius said, making the two kings jump. "I will not have you two speaking in such terms in my chambers!"

"Sorry, Gaius," Merlin mumbled, grasping an arm behind his back and looking down at his feet.

Gaius ignored him and turned back to the book. "The spell itself isn't that complicated, and neither is the potion. And, of course, you're aware of the complications of the process, Merlin."

Arthur turned instantly to Merlin with quirked eyebrows. "Complications? That you're _aware_ of? What does he mean?"

Merlin blushed. "Um. . . ."

"Merlin," Arthur said slowly, "have you been a woman before?"

Merlin's blush deepened. "That's not important right now."

The Pendragon looked at Merlin suspiciously, but didn't pursue.

"To ensure conception and to leave an appropriate amount of time for infant suckling, the spell has been modified to last a year -"

"Of course," Merlin said, nodding in understanding, "In case another warlock wanted to give birth."

"- And the potion is more or less the same, with a few added ingredients to ensure fertility."

"If it's adjusted to last a year, Gaius, how much do I need to drink?" Merlin asked, his nose already scrunching in disgust. It was rare that a potion of any strength or sort didn't taste rotten.

"That's the beauty of it, Merlin," Gaius said, smiling wide. "It's only a goblet-full. When you think about it, that's a bargain."

"A bargain? Great," Merlin said, running a hand down his face. "Arthur you are so lucky I love you. . . . To warn you, I'm going to be angry for the majority of the time."

"I'm expecting that," Arthur said with a nod.

Gaius clapped his hands together, and shuffled over to the cupboard. He pawed through some bottles and said over his shoulder, "Let's get started, then."


	5. Part V

_"Arthur you are so lucky I love you. . . . To warn you, I'm going to be angry for the majority of the time."_

 _"I'm expecting that," Arthur said with a nod._

 _Gaius clapped his hands together, and shuffled over to the cupboard. He pawed through some_ _bottles and said over his shoulder, "Let's get started, then."_

* * *

 _Wow, Gaius takes a long time to move,_ Merlin thought with a sigh, settling next to Arthur on the bench as they waited for Gaius to finally join them so as to begin the potion-making process. Together, the two kings had already suffered through approximately ten minutes of thick, awkward silence, and they could still hear the tinkling of little glass bottles with questionable contents come from various locations of Gaius' chambers. Although the old man was slow, when he was determined, he could walk like his life depended on it. (Which, honestly, still wasn't very fast.)

Gaius was a good father.

The seconds ticked on, each seeming longer than the last, and still Gaius hadn't found what he was looking for. Merlin was tempted to ask, but he was even more tempted to sit quietly and not interrupt. He rested his elbows on Gaius' table and tilted his head back and forth to try to pass the time.

It didn't really help all that well. In fact, it made time go _slower_.

Merlin looked over at Arthur when he felt his husband tap his arm. Arthur raised his eyebrows, flicked his eyes to Gaius, and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Intervene."

Merlin sat back, scowled, and quietly retorted, "Why do I have to? Why can't you? You're not going to be the one to carry a child for nine months -"

A smile picked at the corner of Arthur's mouth. "You are going to hang onto that until the day I die, aren't you?"

Merlin smiled despite himself. "Probably. It's going to be a long year for both of us."

A grunt of frustration and (perhaps) exhaustion came from the side of the room that contained the old physician, and Gaius' voice was slightly out of breath when he scolded, "Do either of you boys intend to help me, or are you content twiddling your thumbs like common fools?"

Merlin sprang up from the bench and hurried to Gaius' side. "Gaius, I'm sorry; of course we'll help."

Arthur walked over as well, (though he lacked Merlin's _extremely energetic_ enthusiasm), and nodded. "Whatever you need, just ask."

Gaius sighed and spoke, (perhaps more sternly than he intended). "I just need some peace and quiet, so if you don't mind leaving, I'd be much appreciative."

Merlin and Arthur exchanged bewildered looks, and it took Merlin a few seconds of confused thinking to scrap together the stuttered words: "A-Are you sure?"

The old physician paused a moment before responding. "Yes, I am sure."

The two kings hesitated before turning away to leave. From what Merlin remembered about living with Gaius, (which was approximately, just about _everything_ ), Gaius was always in need of help, if only to do the mediocre chores, like gathering herbs, cleaning out the leech tank, and distributing medication to the various characters around the kingdom. It came as quite a shock to both Arthur and Merlin that Gaius rejected their attempts at assistance.

On his way out, Merlin called submissively over his shoulder, "If you should change your mind -"

"Oh, you're right, just one more thing, Merlin!" Gaius said, waving the young king over to him. "Which taste do you prefer: frog's spleen or pig wax?"

Merlin stopped in his tracks and stood dumbfounded in the center of the room, his nose scrunched up in disgust. "Before I answer, I'd really like to know what pig wax is."

"Just answer the question, Merlin," Gaius said impatiently. "I've got a lot of meticulous work to do, and I'm actually doing you a favor. The recipe for this particular Conception Potion calls for the ground up bones of a decaying corpse, but I assumed you wouldn't like that very much. Luckily, frog spleen and pig wax can both act as stand-ins for bones, and, although I cannot be entirely sure, it is in my best judgement that both ingredients will work just as well."

"The bones of a decaying corpse?!" Arthur exclaimed in mild horror. (He couldn't act cowardly; that was completely against how he had been raised. Decaying corpses or shallots and carrots, he had to respond the same.) "What on earth sort of potion book is that?"

Gaius glanced sharply at Arthur. "One that's going to deliver you a child."

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. Never in his life had he been dismissed by Gaius so. "Alright, fine," he said. His arms fell apart from being folded and he began to use them grandly as he spoke. "I'll just pretend like bones of decaying corpses is just a normal thing to find in a potion book that was probably bound in human skin. If the bones of a corpse are one of the ingredients that you are changing, what on earth is Merlin going to be eating?"

"I'm not going to be _eating_ anything, Arthur; you _drink_ potions -"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur interrupted, lightly pinching Merlin's shoulder. A sign of admiration if anything. "Gaius?"

Gaius looked contemplative for a moment. "I wouldn't let Merlin consume anything if I didn't deem it safe."

Arthur raised an eyebrow in thought. "Fair enough."

Gaius turned to Merlin impatiently. "Merlin, I _really_ must begin making this potion; the measurements are very exact and the process very particular. Frog's spleen or pig wax? It's your decision."

Merlin looked at Gaius with narrowed eyes for a moment before answering. "I thought this potion was more or less like the one I drank before."

"It's more less than it is more."

Merlin quirked his eyebrows in confusion and didn't answer.

"Quickly, Merlin, quickly; time's wasting. Frog's spleen or pig wax?"

"Well, I suppose frog's spleen sounds more . . . _decisive_ , so I guess -"

"Good choice," Gaius said with a mild shutter. He turned his back on Merlin and Arthur again and muttered, "Lancelot and Gwaine tell me you have a meeting to attend. You should go."

Merlin sighed and looked at Arthur with a small frown. Arthur smiled slightly, pulling Merlin in for an awkward side hug. Merlin ducked his head to accept the embrace and Arthur took the opportunity to kiss him on the forehead. In the course of twenty-four hours, (or maybe half that), Gaius appeared to have lost his mind. Or at least his decency. It seemed as if he'd forgotten the entirety of his relationship with Merlin; this was troublesome to say the least, and it plagued Merlin's mind as he and Arthur walked out of Gaius' chambers.

"Did Gaius seem different to you?" Merlin asked worriedly, looking over to Arthur.

"Gaius always seems different to me," Arthur responded lightly. When Merlin didn't laugh, Arthur sighed. "But, yes, I noticed the same thing. He seemed... withdrawn."

"He seemed angry," Merlin said. "But I saw him only this morning. What could've happened between now and then?"

"Don't worry, Merlin, I'm sure everything's fine," Arthur said airily. "Gaius is very lucky to have a son like you."

"And I'm very lucky to have a father like Gaius, which is why I'm so worried about him." Merlin subconsciously looked back in the direction of Gaius' front door.

"You needn't be," Arthur said, squeezing Merlin's shoulder. "I promise you, Gaius is just fine."

Merlin narrowed his eyes. " _You_ promise me?"

Arthur smiled and slowed his pace to a stop. He released his hold on Merlin as he said, "Yes. Now, if you excuse me, I have a meeting to attend to. Unless, of course, you want to join -"

"Our bedchamber's a mess, Arthur," Merlin said, shaking his head and taking a few steps away from his husband, towards their bedroom. "And I'm sure _you're_ not going to clean it up."

"And you'd be right." Arthur turned in the direction of the conference room. "I want that room sparkling by the time I come back!" he called.

"You'll be able to eat off the floor!" Merlin responded with a grin.

Arthur laughed as he turned the corner.

* * *

Merlin and Arthur had left their bed chamber in worse condition than Merlin remembered. There were blankets and sheets all over the floor, (how they arrived there, Merlin did not recall), Arthur's breakfast was still on the table, (Merlin tutted as he tidied that bit up), and Arthur had clearly tried to light a fire the previous night, because there was soot all over the floor around the fireplace. But Merlin was used to this manner of labor, and it didn't take him long to have everything put in order.

He put his hands on his hips and looked at all the work he had done. He was proud, he supposed.

The whole morning was still replaying in his head. It didn't really sink in until that moment when he was alone in his bedchambers, with no chance of being interrupted. He was going to be turned into a woman. And, sure, it wasn't the first time; he had dabbled already in sex changes, and it was extremely uncomfortable and he didn't like it, but at least then he could look forward to the potion wearing off. But this time... Merlin was breast-bound for a whole year. And not only that - he had to give _birth_ , as well. And, of course, Arthur was completely incorrect in his assuming that warlocks can just *magic* away pain as if it's bread crumbs on the shoulder of a cotton shirt. It didn't work like that. Merlin wished to gods that it did, because all those years battling Morgana would have been either a lot easier, or a lot harder, depending on how you looked at it.

He sank down onto one of the grand chairs at the wooden table in the center of the room and stared at the wall directly in front of him. For the life of him, he wanted to forget about the whole situation, but for the life of him, his brain wanted to remember.

After a few seconds, Merlin grew restless and began to pace. He walked over to the window, took a quick gander at the playing children on the cobbled street outside, (Merlin smiled), looped around the table, touched the opposite wall, and came back around again. After a few times, he was so lost in thought that he forgot he was even moving.

An indeterminable amount of time passed when Merlin tripped over his own feet and nearly fell over. He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced around to make sure nobody was in the room with him, and awkwardly made his way to the table to sit in one of the high-backed chair.

He looked at the fireplace with a slight frown. "I'm going to be a woman. For a year." Somehow saying it out loud made it all the more real, but he just couldn't stop. "I'm going to force a baby out of my... wherever," he said, ignorantly. "And it's going to hurt."

A soft giggling made Merlin sit straight up in surprise.

"Who's there?" he called out, trying to make himself sound dangerous. "I'm a king, you know."

The door to the bedchambers burst open, and a hysterical Gwen stood right in the middle of the doorway, a hand on her stomach and tears in her eyes. She was laughing so hard, it looked like she'd been frozen in time.

"Oh. Gwen," Merlin said, settling back down again. "Hello."

Gwen took a few deep breaths, wiped a few tears from her eyes, smoothed her beautiful long dress out, and smiled. "May I come in?"

Merlin's lips upturned despite himself. "You know you don't need to ask."

Gwen closed the doors behind her, pulled a chair out for herself, and said, "So you're giving birth?"

Merlin ran a hand down his face. "Did Lancelot tell you?"

Gwen smiled and swiped a curl of black hair out of her face. "No. You did just now. I trust Gaius knows what he's doing. I'm sure you haven't a clue: where exactly do you think babies come out of?"

Merlin flushed and said defensively, "I've never delivered a baby before, alright? I don't know how it works!"

Gwen shook her head in amusement. "Well, it doesn't work like whatever you're thinking, I can promise you."

Merlin sighed. "Gwen, I'm nervous. From what my mother says about her having given birth to me, it sounds really painful."

"Merlin," Gwen said, putting her hand on top of his and smiling. "I'm not going to lie to you. Childbirth is excruciating, and there aren't a lot of options for you to keep away the pain. I've helped deliver a few children in my day, and I can help you. If you like."

Merlin smiled gratefully. "I would love that. And, you know, Gwen, I should be a woman any day now."

"That's very exciting, Merlin, I'm happy for you and Arthur both."

The black-haired king smiled. "Thank you, Gwen. And, as soon as I become a woman, I will be surrounded by fellow women. Like you."

Gwen grinned. "I am a woman, yes."

"When I'm a woman, can we be woman friends?"

Gwen laughed, removing her hand from his and placing her fingers along her hairline. She looked at Merlin with smiles in her eyes. God, she loved him. They were siblings at heart. "I would love to be woman friends with you, Merlin."

Merlin beamed. "Fantastic!"

Gwen opened her mouth to respond, but a knock on the bedchamber door silenced her.

"Enter," Merlin called in a purposefully deep voice. Gwen laughed at Merlin's foolishness and shook her head.

The door slowly opened to reveal a nervous-looking servant that Merlin had seen in the castle, but had never had occasion to speak to. He was fidgeting with his hands and his cheeks were tinted red, and he just barely glanced up at Merlin as he said,

"I-I was sent by the, uh, the court physician, um -"

"Gaius," Merlin prompted patiently.

"Of course, yes, Gaius; he's the . . . the court physician. So, anyway, Gaius has, uh, requested your presence in his chambers."

Merlin sighed and rested his head on the palm of his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut. " _Again?_ I was there just a few hours ago. Excuse me, um..." Merlin paused.

The boy looked at Merlin in confusion before exclaiming, "Oh! Matthew, Sire."

Merlin forced a smile. He wasn't really in the mood for pleasantries. "It's good to meet you, Matthew. Do you know why Gaius needs me?"

"No, Sire. I was passing by his chambers and there was a strange . . . a strange smell coming from inside, so I planned on just walking faster, but the door opened and Gaius was waving a hand in front of his nose, and when he saw me, he just said, 'Would you mind fetching Merlin for me?'" Matthew had an impeccable Gaius impression. "So here I am." Matthew chuckled awkwardly, rocking back on his heels. "Fetching Merlin."

Merlin looked to Gwen, seeking assurance. The beautiful dark-skinned woman raised an eyebrow and nodded.

"Go on," she said simply.

* * *

Merlin didn't want to go. He wanted to stay in his bedchambers with Gwen and talk about impossibilities, because never in a million years would Merlin ever agree to turn into a woman for a year. It was all theoretical.

At least, that's what Merlin could say to himself as he pushed open the door to Gaius' chambers.

Arthur was leaning against the one wall that didn't contain science, and he wasn't looking nearly as anxious as Merlin expected. Merlin had created an entire scenario in his mind, (that was likely the worst-case scenario, but, in Merlin's earnest opinion, was definitely the most likely to occur), and the reality was nowhere near it. He had entered Gaius' home with the assumption that Arthur would be pacing nervously, his eyebrows quirked, his mind probably working three hundred thousand million miles per second. He assumed Gaius would be standing beside the largest cauldron in existence with a solemn expression as he was forced to plop into the boiling potion the entire head of a horse, and the physician would then sniff unpleasantly as the flesh and skull disintegrated as if dropped in a vat of acid.

That was probably the exact opposite of what Merlin had barged in on.

Arthur smirked at Merlin when he entered the room. "So nice of you to arrive, Merlin. Gaius has many, shall we say, _important_ questions to ask you."

The young warlock groaned. He didn't like to tone of his husband's voice, first of all. And also he didn't like the idea of Gaius asking important questions. He walked over to Arthur's side as he asked, "What is it, Gaius?"

"Luckily, most of the ingredients needed to make this potion I already had in my cupboard. It's simple, really, when it comes to the contents, but, the combined..." Gaius' voice trailed off. "Merlin, I'd like to firstly warn you of the pain -"

Merlin's eyebrows flew to his hairline. "Wait, the _pain-_ "

"The process won't be pleasant, surely."

Merlin shook his head impatiently. He could deal with all that later, when the potion was completed. At the moment, he had to face... whatever. "I was brought so you could ask me _very important_ questions, Gaius?"

Gaius looked at Merlin for a moment before returning to stirring the potion. "After reviewing the ingredients for the potion, I realized that there are more unpleasant . . . seasonings, we can say, and I thought I would replace them with alternative . . . seasonings."

Merlin closed his eyes. "Please tell me pig wax isn't involved."

"You have my word."

Merlin sighed and sat on the bench. There was no way he could get even remotely comfortable under the circumstances. He folded his hands on his lap, and then, deciding he didn't like that position, placed his elbows on the table. "Great. I'm ecstatic. What are my options?"

"Virgin blood. I'd like to replace virgin blood."

"Please do."

"Unicorn hair or the pulp of orange juice?"

"Pulp of orange juice," Merlin said immediately. "I don't want to meddle with the welfare of unicorns. Not again."

"Good, because I don't have unicorn hair."

Merlin deadpanned as Gaius dropped a few drops of orange juice pulp into the vial and stirred it carefully.

"Just one more. Shredded horse flesh."

"I'd like to _not_ consume that, please."

"Burnt radishes, rat tails, or the juice from a chicken's eyes."

Merlin quirked his eyebrows. "How can burnt radishes be a substitute for -" He shook his head. "Nevermind, I don't care. I'd like the burnt radishes, please."

Gaius nodded and added the radishes into the cauldron. He made sure the orange juice had fully dissolved in the vial before emptying the contents into the pot over the fire. He stood for a moment watching the flames before saying, "The potion is ready."

If a voice could contain a shrug, Gaius' voice's shoulders just vertically hiccuped. Neither kings had picked up on it.

"Wait," Arthur said, stepping forward and holding a hand up as if attempting to pause the moment. "The potion is finished _already_? I thought it would take a few days; I thought there was much more to be done -"

"Like I said, Arthur," Gaius reasoned, without lifting his eyes to Arthur - it wasn't worth it, the question was redundant in accordance to what was already established - "the potion is simple in nature."

"But," Arthur said, looking to Merlin nervously, "It's not even dinner time yet!"

"Merlin can eat afterwards," Gaius said lifting the cauldron from the fire and pouring the potion into a large goblet. "I'm sure you prioritize your future child more than dinner?"

As Gaius handed Merlin the goblet - the liquid inside had a peculiar blue mist teeming over the edge - the black-haired king rose to his feet, eyeing the potion warily. "How long before the potion takes affect?"

"Almost immediately. It's a very powerful potion; it has to be strong in order for there to be such long-lasting results."

Merlin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, lifting the goblet to his lips.

" _Wait, Merlin_!" Gaius interrupted hurriedly.

Merlin jumped and almost dropped the cup in his hand.

"You have to say the incantation first, or else the potion won't take effect."

Arthur and Merlin sighed collectively. The same basic thought had run through both of their minds: that Gaius had somehow forgotten something and Merlin was actually about to drink a very lethal poison.

Gaius hobbled over to Merlin, the heavy spell book clutched in his hand. He near slammed the book on the table, opened it to a bookmarked page, and pointed at the neat and beautiful lettering. "Here, read this one."

Merlin read over the words for a moment, brushing his finger against the page, before taking a deep breath. " _Baineann iompar clainne le do thoil_." *****

There was a moment of silence. Arthur looked around, as if waiting for something to explode, collapse, or viciously shake uncontrollably. He was concerned, not only with the lack of reaction, but also because neither Merlin nor Gaius seemed effected. "Isn't . . ." Arthur paused. "Isn't something supposed to happen?"

"Nothing's supposed to happen; Merlin has yet to drink the potion," Gaius said, nodding at the goblet in Merlin's white-knuckled hands.

Merlin sighed, inspecting the cup one last time before lifting it to his lips.

Arthur looked worriedly at Merlin. He had never seen Merlin change shape before, so he didn't exactly know what to expect. He had bore witness to Merlin's abilities, time and again - in fact, the novelty of Merlin magically creating fire had worn off some time ago. It came with the marriage. But this was different.

Merlin tilted his head back as the last drop fell down his throat. His face scrunched up in disgust as he put the goblet on the table. "Gaius, that is _foul._ "

"I did warn you, Merlin -"

Merlin sucked in a breath as a sudden sharp pain ran through his stomach and nether regions. His back hunched over to try to crush the pain in his lower stomach-area, and he gripped the table beside him tightly to keep from falling over.

"Gaius, this feels different -"

"It's alright, Merlin, the pain you feel is normal. All your male organs must be replaced by female organs, and I can't imagine that feels pleasant -"

"No, Gaius," Merlin grunted, his back hunching even more, "this _hurts_."

Arthur ran to Merlin's side and placed a hand on his shoulder to try to steady him. "Gaius, are you sure this is normal?" he asked in a worried voice.

Gaius nodded, but his voice was a bit unsure as he said, "Yes, Arthur, I'm sure. The pain will subside."

"You don't sound too damn sure to me," Arthur said angrily, glaring at Gaius as shutters racked Merlin's body.

"There is no way -" Gaius began.

A strange change came over Merlin, but he was too invested in what was happening inside of him to notice. Gaius didn't lie when he said the sensation would be unpleasant. In fact, he under-exaggerated. Immensely. It felt like something was being ripped out of him, but instead his internal and external man-ish characteristics simply disappeared, and, in their place, was something very different.

After a few more moments of complete and utter agony, the pain began to steadily decline, until he could open his eyes and return his breathing to normal. When the earth finally fell to it's initial rotational speed, Merlin took the time to internally feel his body. For a second, he completely forgot that Arthur and Gaius were in the room with him, because he felt like he belonged to a different species. For starters, his clothes didn't quite fit him right anymore - too tight in some places, too loose in others - and his chest felt heavier than it used to. He subconsciously reached up to feel what was making his balance feel so lopsided, and he blushed when he realized just what is was he was groping. Merlin hastily pulled his hands away.

When something tickled his neck, his right hand snapped up to the back of his head to try to swipe whatever tickled him away, but he was shocked to feel a thick head of raven hair cascading past his shoulders. In fact, his hair was so long that it fell far past his shoulders and ceased almost past his lower back.

Why it was so long... Merlin had other things to worry about.

The warlock king-now-sort-of-technically-sex-based-not-gender-based-queen looked to his husband for approval. Or at least assurance. Or at least a reaction.

All he received, however, was:

"Merlin, you're looking . . . different."

"Arthur, you have -" Merlin gasped and reached a hand up to his mouth. "My voice! Arthur, my voice; are you hearing my voice -"

"Don't worry, Merlin; women have naturally higher-pitched voices than men. It's perfectly normal -"

"I don't like it," Merlin said, setting his eyebrows. "People won't fear me if I sound like this."

"Believe me, you didn't fear anybody before," Gaius assured considerately.

Merlin glared at Gaius. "Thanks."

Arthur had completely signed out of the conversation taking place between the old physician and the newly-appointed woman. Instead, he took to unashamed gaping, taking in Merlin's appearance from head to toe. The whole image was much different than what he pictured in his head. In his head, all Arthur foresaw was a pregnant Merlin. Just Merlin in a woman's body with a baby. He already knew that Merlin would have to become a woman the whole way, but in the short amount of time he had been given to grow accustomed to the idea of impregnating Merlin, the reality of it all hadn't reached him until he was face-to-face with his... Wife? Husband?

 _Female husband_ ; yes, that was what Merlin was now. A husband with two more things on his chest and a considerable amount less underneath his trousers.

Merlin cleared his throat, causing Arthur to blink and snap his mouth closed.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Merlin asked.

"You're a..." Arthur's voice trailed off.

"A woman. And you better get used to it," Merlin warned, suddenly stern and irritated, narrowing his eyes at the fair-haired king. "This was _your_ idea."

"Actually, it was Gaius' idea -"

"Well, you readily agreed, therefore, it was _your_ idea."

Arthur shook his head and pinched the bridge between his nose. "Great. Fine. It's my fault."

"No, not your fault," Merlin corrected hastily. "It was just your idea." He looked down at his new body disdainfully. "And a bloody awful one at that. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to be a woman?"

Arthur deadpanned and said sarcastically, "Yes, Merlin, I do."

Merlin huffed. "Well, it's uncomfortable. Everything's . . ." Merlin wiggled his hips slightly, "wobbly."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. "I have no desire to know what exactly is causing you to feel wobbly."

The black-haired king sighed, ignoring his husband and looking down at his new body in disdain. "Please, Arthur, get me pregnant. I really don't like this."

"Don't worry," Arthur said, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "That's the plan."

* * *

 _Ayyyy, cut you off in the middle of the good part! This chapter could be much longer, but I thought I'd cut it in half so that there wouldn't be one huge monster chapter that'd be a . . . well,_ monster _to edit._

 _Not as much romance in this one. My apologies. But I can **PROMISE** you there's more to come if you just stick around. . . ._

 _Also, I don't know how fast it takes to create a Conception Potion, so bare with me if the timing was a bit wonky. Not my best chapter. But, please, let me know how you think it's going. I need your feedback if I'm going too off course and need some redirecting!_

 _ ***** Fun fact:  baineann iompar clainne le do thoil means "pregnant female please" in Irish, according to Google Translate. _


	6. Part VI

A/N: Merlin's a woman now, guys. Woman stuff is going to happen. Nothing graphic, I promise - honestly, I wouldn't want to read a fic detailing all sorts of womanhood stuff, either, but be . . . prepared, I guess.

* * *

 _The black-haired king sighed, ignoring his husband and looking down at his new body in disdain. "Please, Arthur, get me pregnant. I really don't like this."_

 _"Don't worry," Arthur said, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "That's the plan."_

* * *

"Merlin, put some clothes on," Arthur scolded, throwing a pair of night pants and a billowy white shirt at his husband. They hit the man's legs and fell to a pool at his feet. Merlin didn't notice. "You look ridiculous like that."

The black-haired man was standing where the moonlight hit his skin, illuminating his stomach, back and legs. It had been some sort of project trying to conceal Merlin as the two kings hurried from Gaius' chambers to their bedchambers, and they had decided that they'd let Merlin settle into his new body for a few days before telling anyone. The new additions still seemed foreign to Merlin, but he was fascinated by his appearance, and, now that he had a chance to just look at himself, he found he couldn't look away. Merlin'd never seen a complete, real life woman's body before, but, now that he had an up-close-and-personal view of it all, he was enraptured by the sheer genius of the design.

Merlin hardly heard Arthur. He shook his head back and forth so that his hair shifted across his shoulders and chest and he laughed. "It tickles, Arthur! It feels sort of... good."

"Spare me," Arthur said, settling against the headboard of their bed and folding his arms. As much as he pretended to 'scoff' at Merlin's desire to stare at himself, the Pendragon was secretly mesmerized, too. It almost felt like it wasn't real; it felt like some weird dream where every little thing Arthur had ever asked for fell in line. He wanted Merlin: check. He wanted peace and equality in Camelot: check. He wanted the evilness of Morgana and her henchmen defeated: check. And now, he wanted an heir: pending check. And besides, it was still happening with _Merlin_ , which, in and of itself was amazing, and it made every part of him happy. It did; of course it did; there was no way he could complain. Not when he was in his situation of complete comfort. Everything felt - was - perfect, but something still felt out of place.

Oh, _yes_. Merlin's appearance. Nearly wholly different.

Merlin's voice woke him from his contemplation. "Maybe I should grow my hair out longer when I become a man again."

Arthur shook his head to clear his mind and said, "It's your decision, but I recommend against it."

Merlin nodded, taking a hold of his hair in his hand and tugging lightly. "I'd like to, but I wouldn't want to spend _three hours_ every morning brushing it."

Arthur smirked at the exaggeration, but offered helpfully, "It'd give you a valid reason for missing meetings."

Merlin thought for a moment, but ultimately shook his head. "No. I'm not willing to face Gwaine. I'd never hear the end of it."

Arthur laughed. "I doubt he'd have anything to say against it. His hair is already about the same length as yours, anyway."

Merlin chuckled, running his fingers through his hair a few more times. He was fascinated. The whole situation just baffled him entirely. He pulled his hair out of the way and looked down at his body for, perhaps, the millionth time that day. He was pale - what else is new - and the curves of his hips were astonishingly more wide than they were before. He absentmindedly gripped his waist with his hands and felt how slender he had become in that area. The corners of his lips upturned. It felt strange but he almost . . . liked it?

The last time he had been a woman it was for not even a day, and he was an old hag with wrinkly skin, and didn't find himself pleasant at all. Now, he saw how age affected the female body, as well as he knew it affected the males, and it was astonishing how much . . . sagged.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Um... Merlin?"

Merlin blinked and released his hold on his body. "Sorry, Arthur, did you say something?"

"You seem . . . distracted. And it's getting late."

Merlin glanced down once more before nodding and sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

" _Please_ put some clothes on," Arthur said again, gesturing to the pajamas he had thrown at the man earlier.

Merlin blushed, bending over and grabbing the wide shirt and brown pants. He slipped them on. Even with his clothes on, he could feel certain areas of his body jutting into the pajamas, and he patted his chest down. He almost expected the two lumps to smoothly meld into his stomach skin, like air pockets in a long-sleeved shirt, but they remained where they were and he couldn't help but grin. Everything was so damn _new_.

Merlin's high was nearly shattered by a sudden sharp pain that shot through his lower stomach. He unwillingly gasped in surprise, rubbing the area that hurt. It wasn't nearly as bad as the transformation pains, but it was close. More than anything, it startled him.

Arthur looked at Merlin when he heard the black-haired man's sharp intake of pain. "Are you alright?"

Merlin took a deep breath, massaging his body and shaking his head. The pain hadn't left yet, but instead had turned into a soft constant drone of discomfort. He ignored it. "Yes, I'm fine. I think it's just the aftereffects. I'm sure it's nothing."

Arthur nodded, reaching an arm out for Merlin, signifying his desire for the black-haired man to join him in their bed. They'd both had long days and they both needed each other's warmth; they could deal with the woman thing after Merlin could walk straight without feeling strange. And besides, Arthur wasn't exactly . . . _excited_ to see his husband in the current state he was in. Merlin, however, didn't mind; if he closed his eyes, he could pretend like nothing happened and be with Arthur like he'd always been, but Arthur didn't have that luxury.

Merlin blew out the candles around the room before making his way back to the bed, lifting up the blanket and tucking himself inside. He sighed through his nose as the comforting heat of the bed engulfed him, and he curled into Arthur's side.

Arthur let out a breath as he wrapped an arm around Merlin, pulling him closer. The two were silent for a moment before Arthur shifted slightly, to get more comfortable, when he accidentally rested on -

"Ouch - _Arthur!_ You're laying on my hair!"

Arthur jumped, startled at Merlin's sudden exclamation of pain, and subsequently lifted his shoulders as the black-haired man pulled his long hair out from under them. The Pendragon muttered an apology, carefully getting situated again so as to avoid any more accidental injuries.

Silence settled over the two of them again before Merlin said in a quiet voice, "Hey, Arthur?"

Arthur smiled slightly. Even though his voice was different, it was still most definitely Merlin. He could tell by the fluctuations in pitch and volume. "Yes, Merlin?"

Merlin paused, almost awkwardly. What he wanted to say couldn't be summed up in a few words. Sure, it was a simple question, but it was also a peculiar one, and there wasn't really a graceful way for it to come out. "What do I look like?"

Arthur almost laughed out loud. "Merlin, you've been staring at yourself non-stop for _hours_. Don't you know already?"

Merlin squirmed. Of _course_ it hadn't come out right. "Yes, but I'm talking about my face. I want _you_ to tell me."

The blonde-haired king blinked at that. He hadn't studied his husband's face long enough to really take notice. For some reason, Arthur had almost been afraid to. He shifted his body so that he and Merlin lay face to face on the bed and he placed a hand gently on Merlin's more feminine face.

Merlin's eyes stayed entirely the same. Perhaps they were a bit bigger, rounder, but the goofy, slightly naive sparkle in them remained. His lips were slightly larger, and his cheekbones were surprisingly sharper than they were before, if that was even possible. His lashes were thicker and his hairline smoothly met in a widows peak on his forehead. And he was pale. Translucent, even, especially in the dim lighting. He was a woman and he looked like any other woman Arthur had ever seen. Merlin was pretty. Sure he was. Merlin was always more attractive than anybody else on the planet, but Arthur liked him much better as a man, and he was almost positive Merlin agreed.

Arthur sighed and smiled a small smile. "You look like a beautiful woman, Merlin."

Merlin beamed. "Oh, thank gods, I was really hoping I wasn't ugly."

Arthur eyes grew half-lidded. "You couldn't be ugly."

The black-haired man laughed, shifting as close to Arthur as he could without causing a collision of their faces.

An idea came to Arthur, but he hesitated before voicing it, as he had never really asked Merlin to do this very often. It was meant for special occasions: he asked Merlin to do it the day he asked Merlin to marry him, he asked Merlin to do it as the sun went down on their wedding night, and never again had the request left his lips. It was sacred. But this moment . . . this moment called for it.

After a few seconds, Arthur asked in a soft voice, "Can you make the dragon?"

Merlin blinked. He didn't know about Arthur's attachment to that certain spell, so the suggestion caught him off guard. He couldn't really remember _making_ Arthur a dragon at all. He quirked his eyebrows as he asked, "Make the dragon?"

Arthur nodded slightly. "Like the one you made when you showed me your magic for the first time. The fire dragon."

Comprehension dawned on Merlin's face as he smiled. God, that smile. It was still 100% Merlin. "Of course!"

Merlin lifted Arthur so they were sitting upright. He smiled to himself as he turned his head and chanted a few (nonsensical to Arthur) words under his breath. He held a hand out, gently curling his fingers ever-so-slightly at thin air.

Arthur's eyes were trained on Merlin's face, feeling the magic radiating off of him in waves. Arthur watched as Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and in that moment, Arthur knew that everything was going to be alright.

Arthur had always thought he was lucky to have married Merlin. That Merlin had even _wanted_ to marry him.

After a few seconds of blatant staring, Arthur rested the side of his head against Merlin's and together they watched the small fire dragon as it flapped at them.

* * *

 _Something's wet_.

The thought didn't exactly connect with Merlin until he stirred slightly in his sleep and the reality of the situation finally hit him. His eyes blinked open and he groaned. It was too early in the morning to be awake; the sun had just barely reached their bedchamber window and the unbearable morning-ness of the room almost made him want to cry. He could almost smell the dew on the grass, and that just made him want to roll over and never wake up again.

However, the damp sensation was beginning to get uncomfortable and strangely itchy, in a way, so he turned carefully over to face his sleeping husband. "Arthur," Merlin said groggily. "Did you spill water in the bed last night?"

Arthur made a little hum in his sleep but didn't answer.

Merlin frowned, his eyes opening fully. "Arthur," he repeated in a louder voice, shaking his husband's shoulder. "Did you spill water in the bed last night?"

The blonde-haired king lifted one lid to look confusedly at Merlin. Merlin's blurry outline barely resonated in his sleepy brain. "'Been sleeping."

Merlin huffed, rolling away from his husband and hopping out of the bed. "Something's wet."

Arthur blinked a few times. The early hours made everything seem surreal, so he gazed up at his husbands face for a few more moments before saying, "Wet?"

Merlin sighed, ignoring his husband's drowsy confusion. Arthur had always been useless in the morning, and Merlin was lucky that at least _he_ was moderately efficient as soon as he woke up. Especially when the motivation of an unknown damp spot in their bed fueled him. Merlin pulled the blankets up to find the mysterious source of the wetness when. . . .

He gasped, letting the blanket fall back down again and jumping a few steps back. "Arthur, it's blood! There's blood!"

At those words, Arthur jolted awake and he stumbled off the bed. He briefly inspected his own body for numb wounds before rushing over to Merlin. "Are you okay? Did you cut yourself? What happened?"

Merlin took a few deep breaths. He wasn't frightened, per se, but he wasn't exactly mentally prepared - nor did he ever think he had to be - to wake up to a sickening amount of blood on his blankets. "No, no, I'm fine, nothing happened. Where did it come from?"

Arthur patted his husband up and down, trying to find open wounds in his body that Merlin somehow couldn't account for. He didn't find any gaping and bloody _wounds_ , but he did find a blood stain on the . . . lady part area of Merlin's pants. . . .

"Merlin," Arthur said in a shaky voice. "You're bleeding from your . . . there."

Merlin paled as he looked down. "I-I am?"

"Does it . . . hurt?" Arthur asked carefully, wanting to hold the origin of the blood so that the flow slowed, but also _really_ not wanting to at the same time.

"No!" Merlin shifted slightly. "I mean . . . it did last night, but I thought it was a little body switching pains, that's all! I didn't think -"

"Is this normal?" Arthur interrupted nervously. "Is this what just . . . happens? Are women _always_ bleeding?"

Merlin absentmindedly rubbed where his ovaries were. "I didn't think so; I've never heard Gwen complain. Or my mother. Or even Morgana, when she was around. If they were bleeding all the time . . . wouldn't we know about it?"

"Maybe something went wrong with the potion..." Arthur mulled.

Merlin ignored him, asking instead, "Can you get Gwen? We're woman friends now, and she'll be able to help. I'm sure of it."

"And you're sure you're alright?"

Merlin nodded. "I'm fine. It doesn't hurt _that_ bad."

* * *

"Gwen, it _hurts_ ," Merlin hurriedly said to her. He pointed downwards. " _Bad_. Is this supposed to happen?"

The door had just closed behind Gwen, as Merlin insisted Arthur leave. Merlin didn't want to burden his husband with something that could be trivial and irrelevant to their situation. Besides, Arthur wouldn't understand. Arthur was a man. He didn't bleed from his _down-theres_.

Gwen quirked her eyebrows, looking Merlin up and down briefly. He looked about the same as Gwen was expecting, but it was a bit startling at first. Ultimately, she decided against commenting, because Merlin was looking terrified. "You're going to need to explain a bit more than that, Merlin -"

"I'm _bleeding_ , Gwen," Merlin said desperately. "Are _you_ bleeding? Is it going to last forever? Is it _normal?_ "

Comprehension dawned on Gwen's face and she couldn't help but smile. "Oh, Merlin, you're on your monthly."

"What's that?" Merlin asked impatiently.

"Your monthly," Gwen explained sitting Merlin down on the bed. He squirmed uncomfortably, but Gwen took his hands in hers and smiled sympathetically at him. "Every month, for about seven days, a woman bleeds. It is normal. I promise."

"You bleed? Every month?" Merlin asked, astonished. "How come I didn't know that?"

Gwen patted Merlin's knee, but there was a bitterness in her voice as she said, "You didn't need to know."

"So . . . what do I do?" Merlin asked a bit desperately. "How can Arthur get me pregnant if I'm bleeding -"

Gwen sighed. "Arthur's not going to want to if you're on your monthly, and for that, he can't be blamed. I'll tell you Lancelot's the same way." Gwen smiled. "You're just going to have to wait a week, and, Merlin . . . what an awful week it's going to be."

Merlin paled, but he said sarcastically, "Thanks, Gwen. I really appreciate your help."

She smiled warmly. "I don't want to soften it for you. You'd only hate more me. I'll stay with you. If you'd like."

This time, Merlin did return her smile. "Thanks, Gwen."

* * *

It was a couple hours later that Arthur knocked on his bedchamber door. Merlin had been very adamant that he leave, so he made sure to be very cautious about reentering.

"Who is it?"

Arthur felt the nagging desire to roll his eyes at his husband's clear attempt at trying to sound intimidating. It was laughable even when he had a _deep_ voice; there was no way anybody'd be deterred by Merlin's _high-pitched_ voice. Arthur rested the side of his head on the door and called, "It's your husband. Am I allowed to enter, since you so rudely forced me out?"

The Pendragon could hear the shrug in Merlin's voice as he said, "I suppose. Gwen left a while ago. Something about having a husband?"

Arthur laughed as he opened the door. Merlin was laying in their bed, the blanket pulled up to his waist, and the pillows propped up behind. A thick book was in Merlin's hand, but he put it aside. Arthur smiled, saying, "You know, if that statement had some underlying meaning to it -"

"Don't worry," Merlin assured, tugging on the blanket halfheartedly, "I've never exactly been very good at allusion."

" _That's_ an understatement," Arthur laughed, pulling his boots off and leaving them in the middle of the floor.

Merlin scowled. "Arthur, you know who's going to end up picking those up for you?" Merlin didn't give his husband a chance to answer, ranting on, " _Me_. _I_ will. And right now, I'd really, really hate to do that, because I'm bleeding a lot, and I'm still not entirely sure from where, even though I told Gwen I understood when she told me, and my girl organs hurt, and I feel like my legs are going to fall off, and I keep forgetting about my hair so that I lean on it when I'm not expecting it, and I want chicken really, really bad. Having to bend over to tidy what you're already capable of tidying is _already_ making me angry and I haven't even _moved_ yet!"

Arthur blinked at the sudden anger exhibited by the black-haired man. "So . . . you're having a bad day?"

Merlin sighed, rubbing his eyes. " _Yes._ "

The Pendragon hesitated, before saying, "Do you want to talk about it?"

The warlock sighed, laying down on his side and pulling the blanket up to his neck. "No. I'd like to sleep, though."

"Merlin, it's three in the afternoon -"

Merlin groaned, his eyes closing. "I don't care."

Arthur stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether arguing was worth it. Ultimately, he decided against it, and walked over to the side of the bed where Merlin's head was. Arthur bent down and kissed Merlin on the temple, saying, "Then sleep. I'll be back with some food later and, when it's dark, we can sit by the window and watch the stars."

Merlin opened his eyes at this and smiled. "That sounds great."

Arthur grinned back. "Good. Now, sleep. I love you."

As Merlin's eyes drifted closed, he smiled softly. "'Love you, too."


End file.
